


graven with diamonds in letters plain

by AngelQueen



Category: The Tudors
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Big Bang Challenge, Diary/Journal, Epistolary, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-30
Updated: 2011-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-24 04:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelQueen/pseuds/AngelQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate universe described by letters, diaries, and non-fiction excerpts, featuring the lives of Anne Boleyn, Henry VIII, and those who revolved around them after the dissolution of their marriage in February 1536. Anne retires from court as the Duchess of Pembroke, while Henry marries Jane Seymour. Nonetheless, Anne and Henry's lives remain entwined, and the ties of love and passion refuse to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. January 1536 -- December 1536

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank the following people:
> 
> lupinskitten, for being an excellent beta. I so appreciated your input and fresh eyes on this!
> 
> world_of_blade, for being my unofficial cheerleader. She was practically always on hand when I posted an update on the story’s status, cheering me on with awesome banners and waving pom-poms. Thanks so much, hon!
> 
> irony_rocks, for organizing the big bang in the first place. I know this thing exploded well beyond your expectations, and I thank you for being your awesome self and enduring it, so that we could all have a great time while working! *hugs* You’re the greatest!
> 
> heartstrike, for creating the artwork for this story! It's absolutely _gorgeous_!! You can find the artwork [here](http://hetbigbang.weebly.com/heartstrike---graven-with-diamonds-artwork.html).

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _30 January 1536  
Whitehall_

My boy is gone. My darling baby, the one who I’d pinned all my hopes on, the one last chance I’d had to keep my husband’s love, is dead, gone before he could even draw his first breath in this world.

Henry blames me. When I lay in my bed, writhing in pain as our dead child slipped from my body, all he could say was, “You’ve lost my boy!” Not a word of comfort, nor a thought for what I might be suffering! That child was every bit as mine as he was his!

It isn’t all my fault! If he hadn’t been wenching with that _whore_ , our son would still be alive and growing in my womb! Their dallying has cost my son his life and England its heir, and Henry sees it as my fault? Cruel, hateful man!

* * *

FROM THE PAPERS OF HERBERT LINACRE, HIS MAJESTY’S PERSONAL PHYSICAN  
 _10 February 1536  
Whitehall_

Her Majesty summoned me and the midwives who had been retained for her delivery. The subsequent examination that she demanded to ascertain her chances for future childbearing was informative. The queen has shown in the past that she has no problem conceiving a child, as the presence of Princess Elizabeth and the two children HM has miscarried indicates. What has been the problem with her second and third child is that she has trouble carrying the prospective child to term. The midwives and I agreed amongst ourselves after the examination that the miscarriage HM suffered in 1534 and most especially HM’s most recent misfortune has wrought permanent damage to HM’s womb and humors.

HM took our diagnosis in a rather composed manner, much different from her behavior since the unfortunate incident that occurred a week before.

* * *

THE DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _10 February 1536  
Whitehall_

I am stunned by the swift turn of events that have come about today. These past few days I have been considering methods with which to secure my freedom. Since God has made it clear that I will not have a living male heir from Anne, I have been wondering how I might be able to marry again. I had no desire to go through everything I endured with Katherine, and I was certain that Anne would fight me every bit as hard as Katherine did.

Now everything has changed.

This afternoon, Anne came to see me. I was surprised to see her up and out of her chambers, as she had remained bedridden since she lost my son. I had spent the past two weeks angry at her for allowing her injured pride to poison our son, but when I saw her today, I just couldn’t hold onto that anger. She looked so… small. I could tell that she had lost weight, and she looked exhausted. It’s hard to be angry at someone who was so clearly suffering.

She asked to speak to me alone, as Cromwell was currently present, and I agreed, shooing the man out. Once we were by ourselves, she began to speak. She informed me that she had spoken to Dr. L and the midwives and that this latest miscarriage had caused irreparable damage to her body. Because of that, Anne stated that due to the damage, she would likely never carry another child to term. Elizabeth was to be our only heir.

I admit, my anger did return then. This was not supposed to happen! She had promised to give me a son, to deliver where Katherine had failed! I was ready to berate her, to call her a witch for beguiling me into marriage and imperiling my kingdom, but she kept right on talking, not giving me a chance to say a word.

Because of this great misfortune, Anne told me that she felt it was best she step aside as my wife and Queen. I was stunned. Anne was leading me on a merry dance, much as she had done during our courtship, and just as then, I could only follow.

She expressed her disappointment that she had been unable to provide me with the son we both sought, though she did add that we have a daughter of which we can both be proud, something I don’t disagree with at all. Elizabeth is my greatest treasure and if she had only been born a boy, she would be perfect. Anne expressed her grief at not being able to preserve our son’s life, but still maintained that our marriage was a legitimate one and that, if nothing else, it had provided me with a legitimate daughter with which to use in my negotiations with my fellow rulers. Elizabeth would also do well as an heir presumptive until I could remarry and have a son.

I was shocked, yes, but as she told me these things, I began to actually see what it meant. Anne was agreeing to not stand against a divorce as Katherine had done. For the good of England, she was setting me free. I would not have to wait; I could be remarried within the year, and to my dear, dear Jane. I had been making preparations for these past few days, determined to not have to wait for years to separate from Anne as I had with Katherine. Even now, it still hurts to think that, but for Katherine’s stubbornness, Anne and I might have had a son even before Elizabeth had been born.

But now, Anne was offering me my freedom, presenting it like the ancient Romans would have made offerings to their barbaric gods. It was all so much to take in, but I still managed to speak, agreeing that it was right that we do what was best for the kingdom, and that I would summon Cromwell and Archbishop Cranmer to sort out the legalities of the situation.

That ended our meeting and Anne moved to leave. As she did so, though, I couldn’t help but feel some remorse. Once, I had loved her beyond all reason, had adored her above any other person in the world. I reached out to her, and she looked at me. Anne was still a handsome woman, despite the trials she’d undergone these past years. She had been my sweetheart, and I wanted to offer some word of comfort to her, but I found myself utterly tongue-tied.

Anne didn’t seem to mind my silence, though, and instead she touched me, her fingers brushing over my cheek. I could only watch as tears filled her eyes and saw the very real pain she was feeling. “Henry,” she whispered with such a longing that I have never heard. I think that, had she not fled the room at that moment, I might have taken her in my arms again and never let go of her, the whole world be damned.

Even now, she has such a hold on me…

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _13 February 1536  
Whitehall_

Well, Cromwell and Cranmer certainly work quickly. I wonder if Henry bribed them to come up with such a quick solution.

I was summoned today to discuss the terms for my and Henry’s separation. My father, my uncle, and George accompanied me, although I’d only told them of my decision this morning. Father was furious, of course, and berated me for actually telling the king that I could no longer bear children and for giving up so easily what he and the others had fought so hard to gain. I longed to remind him yet again that it had been I who had gotten Henry to fall in love with me, but knew that would do nothing to resolve the situation, so I kept my silence.

George was upset as well, but less inclined to wail about it like our father. Uncle Norfolk was rather quiet on the subject, and one can never tell what he is thinking.

The meeting consisted only of myself, my family, Cromwell, Cranmer, and Henry, which was something of a relief. I’d been afraid that Henry would have brought along those vile, wretched Seymours, or Suffolk, to witness the evidence of my admitting defeat.

Cranmer began the meeting by quoting scripture at length, boring at least half the room near to sleep, but then finally got to the point. He said that since God told Men to go forth and multiply, my new inability to bear children could be considered justifiable cause for a divorce. He also stated that since ours had been a legitimate marriage and that both parties were willing to separate, the dissolution could occur with no loss face on either side, and Elizabeth thus would retain her legitimate status as a Princess of England.

I was so relieved to hear that, as Elizabeth’s wellbeing has been my primary concern. As long as Elizabeth remained a princess in eyes of the law and the church, then she retained a legitimate claim to the throne of England, the primary claim unless Henry actually managed to get a son on another bride. Of course, I wasn’t completely unaware that he already had someone lined up to take my place. I just wonder if any milky-eyed, puny brat that Jane Seymour manages to produce could even make it past its first birthday.

Once Cranmer finished explaining how he had managed to twist religious doctrine to allow Henry and I to divorce without incurring any negative consequences, Cromwell stepped in with the practicalities of our separation. Including the estates I hold already as the Marquess of Pembroke, Henry will settle on me several new estates, former monasteries, and their assets.

“In addition,” Cromwell added, “His Majesty has decreed that you will be granted the title Duchess of Pembroke, as well as continue hold the courtesy title of Queen, because of your holy anointment.”

Her Highness, Queen Anne, Duchess of Pembroke. It sounds well enough, though certainly not as glorious as Queen of England. Still, I was in no position to quibble. In fact, I was shocked that Henry was being so generous. He could have just as easily left me with nothing, bastardized our child, and I would have no way of stopping him.

The rest of what Henry will give me is also pleasing enough: I’ll continue to be considered a member of the royal family, due to my status as Elizabeth’s mother, and I will continue to be remembered in the prayers said for the royal family’s health and wellbeing throughout England. My letters patent will also be changed to include the heirs female, allowing my title, goods, and estates to be passed onto Elizabeth when I die.

Once everything had been laid out, Henry and I signed the documents that Cranmer and Cromwell required. As we all moved to leave, I watched Henry. There was no indication of his feelings as there had been when we met on the tenth. Back then, I saw something of the love he had once felt, and I knew then that there was still some part of him that felt something toward me.

He just does not love me enough to keep me, to be content with our precious, precocious daughter being the sole legitimate heir to the throne. I loved him with my whole heart, I still love him, despite all, and it tears at me that his love does not match my own.

I returned to my chambers, unable to bear the sight of him any longer, and ordered my maids and ladies to begin packing. I would have to send servants to Windsor, Greenwich, and Hampton Court to gather the rest of my possessions there and prepare them for transport to my new residence, of which I have yet to select.

My family had followed me back to my apartments. Father again started to complain of my decision to inform the king of my barrenness. After letting him fume for a few minutes, George interrupted him, telling him that it was for the best that I had been honest with Henry. What had happened to me could not be kept secret, and if I had tried to keep it from him, Henry probably would have tried us all for treason. George believed that I was coming off rather well, keeping the Pembroke estates along with a Duchy and continued inclusion in the royal family. He admitted that the family might lose some of its stewardships and offices, but he didn’t think Henry would strip them of everything, since the entire situation was being presented as no one was to suffer any loss of face.

“Though,” he added more darkly, “it will grate to see what we lose go to the Seymours.”

I agreed with him on that score. Jane Seymour had played the game of enticing Henry well, something she had learned from me. Well, she probably had been coached by her ambitious brothers and their sanctimonious father. By withholding sexual favors from Henry, Jane might as well have incited a bull. I had refused to be Henry’s mistress, refused to be a whore, no matter what the rest of the known world thought of me. Jane had outwardly pretended to do the same, and was now reaping the rewards. No matter that she killed a prince of England to get what she wanted.

Uncle Norfolk also agreed with George. We had not achieved all of our ambitions, but we were hardly going away penniless. Elizabeth is a princess of England, and could very well one day be Queen if Henry never manages to have a son. George also added that even if a boy is born, there is nothing to stop Henry from marrying Elizabeth off to a foreign prince, making her a future queen of a foreign country. While it is painful to think that my Elizabeth might one day leave me to go so far away, it is still a warming thought, that my darling girl could be a queen.

Father, however, was not so optimistic. “Not if all of Europe refuses to acknowledge the validity of Anne’s marriage to the king! The Emperor and the Pope won’t allow it!”

Uncle Norfolk told Father to calm down and calmly explained that it was possible that the Emperor and the Pope might be more amenable on the subject of Elizabeth’s legitimacy now that Katherine was dead and I had agreed to stand aside. The Emperor had defended his family’s pride, but now that the heart of his objections was gone, he might prove more lenient. Father, of course, pointed out that the Lady Mary was still present and that the king could always restore her to the succession ahead of Elizabeth.

I didn’t think he would, though. Doing so would mean admitting, however tacitly, that his union with Katherine had some validity to it. I didn’t think Henry would do such a thing, not even to spite me. I admitted that it was possible that Lady Mary could eventually be returned to the succession, but most likely not ahead of Elizabeth, not when it would imply that she had a better claim.

There was little my father could say against our arguments, and thus he and the others soon left me alone. Before Uncle Norfolk left, however, he stopped to say that I was coming out of my marriage rather well, considering that Henry could have just as easily thrown me into a nunnery left untouched by Cromwell especially for me.

It was an unsettling thought, especially when I know that he was right.

* * *

EXCERPT OF A LETTER TO ELIZABETH HOLLAND FROM THOMAS HOWARD, DUKE OF NORFOLK  
 _27 February 1536_

My Beloved Bess,

Anne has left London, and strangely enough, the people did not come out to cheer her going. I rode with her party through the city as her escort, and all I heard were calls of support, particularly from among the women. “God save Queen Anne!” I heard more than once, and from the people who practically spat in her path when she traveled to her coronation. Now they are supporting her, grumbling about her “being pushed off her throne” and other such phrases. There is even a rather bawdy ballad spreading through the markets and taverns, painting Anne’s departure as the wronged lady being sent away at the behest of her husband’s shameless, unfeeling mistress. Just a few years ago, such a song would have named Anne as the mistress, with Katherine of Aragon as the wronged wife.

Nonetheless, most of the court does little to hide their jubilation at her departure. The Seymours and Suffolk are acting particularly smug – as if they had anything to do with her going – though at the very least the Seymour ~~slut~~ girl has the good manners to be subtle about it. Though, I suppose her low spirits could be attributed to the ballad circulating through all of London.

The king is surprisingly solemn over the whole matter. Plans are already in the making for his marriage to Jane Seymour, yes, but he isn’t salivating all over the woman like he has been in recent weeks. More than once he has been seen staring off in the direction that Anne went in. If I were a sentimental man, I would think that he missed her.

[…]

* * *

ORDER FOR RENOVATION OF BUSHEY HALL AT THE BEHEST OF QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE  
 _19 March 1536_

 _By the hand of Her Highness’ secretary, John Uvedale_

By orders of Her Highness, Queen Anne, Duchess of Pembroke, the following renovations are to be made of Bushey Hall, Hertfordshire (soon to be renamed Queen’s Hall):

\- nursery to be enlarged into full bedchamber  
\- main bedchamber to be redesigned to architect’s specifications  
\- smaller bedrooms of the third floor to be combined into a dormitory for Her Highness’ ladies  
\- water closets to be scoured, enlarged, or added in areas indicated by architect  
\- kitchens to be restructured  
\- entire roof to be replaced  
\- gardens to be redesigned to architect’s specifications  
\- other tasks to be assigned

* * *

LETTER TO QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE, FROM GEORGE BOLEYN, VISCOUNT ROCHFORD  
 _22 March 1536_

Dear Anne,

I may well never forgive you for reducing your household to the point that you didn’t take Jane with you. Now I have to put up all the time with her incessant complaining without using her duties to you as a ready distraction. Personally, I think she’s just cross that her brother’s wife, Grace Newport, is expecting a child, since should that child survive, it would end any chance of our supposed son inheriting at least part of Baron Morley’s estates. Not that I have any intention of having a child with her.

Speaking of which, that has become Father’s newest bone of contention – you may have heard of it in his letters to you? He is ‘most displeased’ that there are still no Boleyn grandchildren for him to direct to further his dynastic ambitions. He’s made it clear that he wants a grandson – preferably named Thomas, after him – to one day carry on the family titles. I think he’s getting a bit desperate because he’s disowned Mary and any children she might have with Stafford, and he has no way of staking any kind of claim on Elizabeth.

Regardless, he will just have to accustom himself to the disappointment of not having one of his descendants to keep his bloodline going, and be resigned to the fact that one of Uncle James’ children or grandchildren will inherit from me, provided I outlive him. I copulated with that woman on our wedding night, and have no desire to ever do so again. I don’t care if people regard her as pretty, I find her repulsive.

But enough of my complaining. I was glad to hear that you are enjoying your tour of your estates, especially the ones you’d never had a chance to visit before. I hear that you are going to make Bushey Hall your primary residence after it has been renovated, and that you are going to rechristen it Queen’s Hall? Quite a statement, Anne.

Since you asked to be kept abreast of the goings on of the court, I will tell you what I know. The preparations for the king’s remarriage continue. The Seymour woman has already been set up in the Queen’s apartments, and she’s supposedly covered the place with fabrics and the Queen’s jewelry as she prepares her trousseau. She spent the early days maintaining a demure appearance, acting as though she hadn’t just edged you out of the court and your marriage, but that didn’t last when the king started treating her like a favorite pet. It’s nauseating, to be honest.

Father and I have both lost a few offices and stewardships to the Seymour men, but it hasn’t been as bad as we feared it might be. At least, I don’t think it’s been too bad. Father has lost both his seat on the Privy Council and his post as Lord Treasurer. He is positively spitting with fury. I still have my spot on the Privy Council, and the king has even invited me to join him on a few of his hunts, so the Boleyns are not completely out of favor.

The Emperor is falling all over himself to congratulate the king on his upcoming marriage, though he – and Chapuys – hasn’t been bold enough to state that this is his first legitimate marriage since Katherine. Cromwell and the Seymours are also in favor of an Imperial alliance, at least for the moment. Who knows how long it will last? The Emperor is known for playing games with the king, and it’s inevitable that the king will grow offended and then return to the French. Perhaps then there will be another opportunity to negotiate a marriage between Elizabeth and one of King Francis’ sons.

Oh! I can’t believe I almost forgot, but one of the king’s gentlemen of the chamber has disappeared! William Brereton, you know, the quiet one? He abruptly left court without permission and vanished. There was an investigation, under the theory that there might have been a kidnapping or something else nefarious, but no trace of him has been found. It’s as though he never existed.

Well, I hope I have filled your mind with enough gossip, sister. Do take every chance you can to enjoy yourself, and then take a moment to think of those of us who are stuck here at court for the foreseeable future.

Your Loving Brother,  
George, Viscount R.

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _2 May 1536  
Hatfield House_

Hatfield, I’ve found, is something like an oasis. Since I arrived here on the twenty-fifth of April, the weather has been perfect – sunny, the heat not overly stifling – and Elizabeth and I have spent as much time as we can out of doors.

Today was the perfect day to spend outside. Carpets were laid out in the gardens and the servants brought out a light selection of food for my ladies and Elizabeth’s nurses to enjoy with us. Elizabeth sat with me for a time but eventually wandered off, dragging two of her nurses along to play with her. Given that I had a moment alone with Lady Bryan, I asked her how Elizabeth was handling the recent changes in my status. She assured me that my daughter was doing very well, and that she had explained the situation to Elizabeth in a manner that she seemed to understand.

Elizabeth returned to me at that point, so I didn’t have a chance to question Lady Bryan further. I pulled her into my lap, happy to cuddle her close. I hadn’t seen her very much in the past several months, as she had been kept away from court for most of my last pregnancy, so I was immensely grateful to be able to spend time with her now. “Hello, my darling girl,” I said, “Are you happy?”

She said she was, and she smiled too, but even with all the time we’d spent apart, I know my girl. I thought she had something to say, but didn’t want to do so in front of Lady Bryan and all our attendants. I didn’t want her to feel as though she couldn’t talk to me, so I led her away, ordering the others to remain where they were.

We walked together a distance away, finally coming to a halt in the very center of the garden, where there was a bench. I lifted Elizabeth up onto it, and then sat down next to her. I then proceeded to ask her if something was wrong, if something was bothering her. It took her several moments to answer, and she still clearly looked hesitant. I waited, and finally she worked up the courage to speak.

Her question is one I will never forget.

“Does my papa not love me anymore?”

I felt as though someone had just slapped me. For all his faults and his initial disappointment over her sex, Henry adored Elizabeth. Our love for our daughter is possibly all we have left in common now. Hugging her, I reassured her that of course her papa loved her. She was his special girl, his little princess.

My words didn’t reassure her, though, and she demanded to know why he never came to see her anymore, and why he had discarded me. She even stumbled over pronouncing discard. My Elizabeth may be the most brilliant little girl in the world – no one will ever convince me that she isn’t – but she isn’t even three years old yet. She had to have overheard the word discard; it’s hardly a word she’d use on her own. The servants here at Hatfield aren’t immune to gossip, and clearly they aren’t careful about not being heard by the princess they serve.

I kissed her head and assured her that her papa and I both loved her very, very much, and that Henry was busy protecting the kingdom from people who wished to hurt it – hardly a lie, given that the Emperor, the Pope, and even the King of France are already standing against him. I assured her that he missed her terribly, and that he would no doubt come to visit her as soon as he was able.

Elizabeth seemed more at ease now, reassured of her father’s love. I could have avoided her other question, and even knew that she would likely never ask me or anyone else about it again, but I thought it best to be honest with her. I explained to her that her father didn’t discard me, and that she must never believe people who say so. Whatever my feelings about Henry, I don’t want Elizabeth to ever think that her father would be so cruel to her mama. I managed to tell her that my body was injured when her little brother came too early, and because of that, I couldn’t have anymore children. I told her that because her father and I wanted so much for her to have a little brother, we decided it was best that we not be married anymore so Henry could marry again and give her one. A rather simplified explanation, but for someone so young, it will work.

Of course, my daughter never ceases to amaze me. She said, “Lady Mary’s my sister. That means we’d both get a brother.” She seemed pleased enough by the idea, and I thought that enough had been said on the subject. We walked back to Lady Bryan and the others to call them inside. I felt we’d been out in the sun enough, and had no desire for Elizabeth to become overheated.

As we walked, Elizabeth’s nurses took her in hand, I fell back to walk with Lady Bryan and asked her if Lady Mary was well. “Well enough, Your Highness,” she said. “She spends much of her time in her chamber praying when she is not attending to her assigned tasks.”

I asked if she was there now, to which Lady Bryan said that she was, and that she was assigned to help prepare Elizabeth for dinner, even though Mary didn’t dine with the rest of the household. I already knew why that was. I’d received numerous reports in the past of how Mary refused to sit below Elizabeth, doggedly maintaining that it was her right to sit beneath the banner of state as Henry’s legitimate daughter. Not even the latest declaration of Elizabeth’s legitimacy that came directly from the Archbishop of Canterbury and Henry himself was enough to change her obstinacy.

Making a decision, I told Lady Bryan, “I will speak with Lady Mary in private. She may be late for her duties.”

I don’t know if I can change anything for the girl, but I shall try. I am so tired of fighting, and the girl deserves some peace as well, which she will never find while she is here being a servant to her sister.

* * *

EXCERPT FROM ANNE BOLEYN, QUEEN OF HEARTS, BY DR. NATALIE OLSEN

“Anne Boleyn’s stay at Hatfield in April and May 1536 is the one of the few concrete facts that we know of what she was doing after she left the court in February, along with the orders for a renovation of Bushey Hall, soon-to-be Queen’s Hall. The Lady Mary, of course, was also in residence at Hatfield, still waiting on Elizabeth. Anne’s diary speaks of her plans to speak to Mary, but Anne never writes of the actual encounter. Given the course of events in Mary’s life over the next few months, however, one wonders if Anne might have imparted a few words of advice to Mary on how to adapt to her ever-changing situation in life.

In any case, Anne left Hatfield some time after the 2 May entry in her diary, and we know that she had taken up residence at Forsythe Manor, her temporary primary residence, by 18 May due to a dated letter from George Boleyn sent to the estate. […]”

* * *

LETTER TO QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE, FROM GEORGE BOLEYN, VISCOUNT ROCHFORD  
 _18 May 1536_

Anne,

The king is to marry on the morrow. By the time you receive this, it will indeed likely already have happened. He attempted to keep the matter quiet, but it inevitably got out. The Seymours and their allies are already counting the silver, and Suffolk is being particularly insufferable.

I’m sorry, dearest.

George

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _19 May 1536  
Forsythe Manor_

He actually did it. I knew that he fancied that whore, and I knew that she was the principle candidate to marry him, but in my heart, I’d hoped he’d never actually do it. A foreign princess I could accept, but her? She killed my son!

How could he? How could he?

* * *

EXCERPT OF A LETTER TO SIR ANTHONY KNIVERT FROM CHARLES BRANDON, DUKE OF SUFFOLK  
 _19 May 1536_

My Old Friend,

I hope this letter finds you well, and was sorry to hear that you couldn’t return to court. The king has married Jane Seymour, and seems quite happy with himself and his new bride, and she him. They danced and focused on each other so intently that I don’t think they even noticed anyone else around them. Gone is the king’s previous low spirits that came on him when Anne left Whitehall for Hertfordshire.

The entire court has been determined to make the festivities as happy for the king and queen as possible, if only to drown out the sneers and grumblings coming from outside the palace. Ever since the announcement of the divorce was made, the people have been speaking against the king, but mostly against Queen Jane. They keep muttering that Jane caused Anne’s miscarriage, enticing the king when she knew the queen was looking for her husband, and they truly believe the king was cruel enough to cast Anne off and blame her for the baby’s death. It’s rather shocking, when considering at her coronation, the people couldn’t be enticed to cheer the woman, no matter what bribes they were offered. Now they paint her with the same brush they painted Queen Katherine.

Nonetheless, everyone has been resolved to treat this as a fresh start. My dearest wife thinks that Queen Jane will make the king happy, and I say that with God’s help, we’ll all be happy now. Anne is gone, vanished into Hertfordshire to hoard the rewards she wrested from Henry in compensation for agreeing to the divorce. She’s living on enough wealth to feed a family of ten, and even managed to keep the title of princess for her child. Of course, still no thought is made for the Lady Mary, still languishing away at Hatfield as a servant for Elizabeth. Nonetheless, Queen Jane is known to be very fond of Mary, so it’s to be hoped that the young lady’s situation will improve in the near future.

[…]

* * *

THE DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _4 June 1536  
Hampton Court_

My dear Jane had her first interview with one of the foreign ambassadors today. She behaved in the sweet, modest way that I so admire about her, and yet I couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. I brought Chapuys to visit her, and then left the two of them to speak alone, since Jane needs to know how to handle diplomats even when I am not present.

Chapuys’ tongue was as warm and golden as ever, complimenting her to the skies, though that I cannot blame him for. Jane is a true jewel of womanhood, everything a man would love to have in a wife. However, he soon moved onto the subject of my eldest daughter, saying that Jane will have gained a devoted daughter without the pain of childbirth, one whom she will find even dearer to her than her own children. Jane promised to continue to show favor to Mary, and do all that she could to further her interests and live up to the title of ‘peacemaker’ that Chapuys and even the Emperor have given her. Jane clearly needs further instruction on how to deal with foreigners, such as not to promise things that will not be in her power to do. Jane has no say in Mary’s condition; Mary herself alone is responsible for it. It speaks well of my wife that she wants to be kind to my illegitimate daughter, but why didn’t she speak up on behalf of my legitimate heir as well?

I also quite dislike the implication that Mary, who behaves as a miserable, disobedient wretch, would be even dearer to Jane than any children we might have. It’s ridiculous, a bastard being held in higher esteem than a legitimate child!

I ended their interview then, calling Chapuys away to talk with me. I asked him to forgive Jane, since this new life is all very strange and different from what she knew before our marriage. The ambassador was not at all perturbed, however, saying that he finds her quite the natural in her new duties. We spoke for several minutes more, and I believe I made it quite clear to him that while Jane was my wife and a perceived ‘peacemaker’, she has no influence on my policies and the decisions I make as both a king and as head of my family. Katherine and Anne both wielded their share of influence when they stood as my queen, but I have no need of any kind of partner in ruling anymore. I need a woman who will give me a son. Katherine failed because of the invalidity of our marriage in God’s eyes and Anne… I don’t want to think of Anne right now. Elizabeth was all she gave me, and while my dear girl is my heir presumptive, I need a son. That is Jane’s primary duty; that is what I need from her the most.

Surely she understands that.

* * *

EXCERPT FROM A FULL HOUSE: THE MADNESS OF LADY JANE ROCHFORD, BY DR. ROBERT RIVINGTON

“Jane’s unhappy marriage is thought to have contributed to her strong dislike of Anne, possibly because of the close relationship between Anne and George. She may even have believed that with Anne’s departure, George would bestow more attention on her. This was not the case, as George continued to despise her. Courtiers have written of how George vigorously continued to find his pleasures outside of his wife’s bed, refusing to sleep with her even for the sake of having an heir, much to Wiltshire’s dismay.

So that Jane joined the household of her sister-in-law’s successor should come as no surprise, if she was looking to spite the family for the unhappiness she believed they had caused her. […]”

* * *

JANE SEYMOUR’S DIARY  
 _7 June 1536  
Whitehall_

I welcomed two new ladies to my household today – Lady Ursula Misseldon and Lady Jane Rochford. Lady Misseldon is a pretty young lady, and seemed an open and kind woman. I wonder how long that will last, for the court has a corrupting influence. I asked one of my other ladies to help Lady M settle in while I spoke privately with Lady R.

I admit I was hesitant to accept her into my household. She’s the wife of Wiltshire’s only son, and I suspected her of being W’s attempt to employ a spy among my ladies. When I mentioned this to Edward, however, he said I should accept her anyway. He said it was common knowledge that Lord R despised his wife. He believes she could become a useful ally, if her hatred for the Boleyns is as strong as he thinks it is and will become.

It did not take much to get Lady R to confide in me. She feels utterly abandoned in the wake of the Duchess of Pembroke’s departure from court. Lady R and Her Grace were never close, and she is not on good terms with the rest of her husband’s family. I could see the shame and unhappiness on her face, and could not help but pity her. I don’t know what I’d do if I’d been married off to such a cruel and ruthless family.

I assured her that she was not at fault for the failings of her husband’s family, and told her I had decided to appoint her my principle lady-in-waiting. She was so pathetically grateful that I had offered her a place in my household that I wanted to comfort her as though she was a little child, the poor thing.

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _28 June 1536  
Queen’s Hall_

The renovations are going well. The architect and the stewards have all assured me they will be finished with everything come October, which will hopefully allow for enough time for my household to be moved in before the weather grows too atrocious. Nan and I have even begun to make tentative plans to host my family at Queen’s Hall for the holidays in December. I should love to have Elizabeth here with me for Christmastide, and my family too. Even Father, who continues to grumble about my letting go of being Queen in his letters to me.

I admit that I have been lonely these past several weeks. Elizabeth remains at Hatfield, George and Father at court. Nan is still with me, of course, but Madge is Lady Norris now and busy being a stepmother to Henry Norris’ children.

I miss my sister. We have not spoken or even exchanged letters since she revealed her marriage to Sir William Stafford and she was banished from court. How foolish was I, to allow my father to bully me into exiling one of my few allies? Mary and I have been together for much of our lives, and even now it’s difficult to not have her with me. Perhaps… perhaps it’s time to see if I have burned that bridge completely, or if there is still hope of preserving it.

* * *

LETTER TO EUSTACE CHAPUYS, SPANISH AMBASSADOR, FROM LADY MARY TUDOR  
 _28 June 1536_

Your Excellency,

I fear I must request your presence here at Hatfield. I have had a visit from Sir Francis Bryan at the behest of the King, once again commanding that I sign articles recognizing my parents’ marriage as incestuous, my own illegitimacy, my father’s right to be the head of the church, and renouncing His Holiness. I refused, as I always do, but this time I was subjected to veiled threats from Sir Francis upon my person if I did not do as His Majesty commands. He even stated that if I were his daughter, he would bash my head against the wall until it was as soft as a boiled egg! It was horrible, and I feared he might well lay violent hands on me, but then he stepped back and left.

I do not like to think that the King would authorize any of his men to harm me, but I also cannot think that Sir Francis, known for being an intelligent man, would not issue such vile words if he did not have His Majesty’s approval.

Please, come to see me, dear friend. I need your most excellent advice.

Princess Mary

* * *

THE DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _29 June 1536  
Whitehall_

My frustration knows no bounds, and I was in such good spirits at first! I had been making plans for Jane’s coronation, a magnificent event that will finally put paid to all of those malicious whispers about Jane and her supposedly hounding Anne off the throne. If I wasn’t having her and her family watched, I would suspect that the Boleyns were stirring the pot, refusing to let the rumors die.

During our evening meal, the first one we had shared with for the day, as I had been busy with other matters at breakfast and dinner, I was telling Jane of my plans for her coronation. She seemed mildly interested, but then changed the subject. Apparently she had heard of my plans to finally bring my eldest daughter to heel, and begged me not to, to leave the girl alone.

I still cannot believe it. Did she truly not understand that to allow Mary to continue to disobey me only ferments rebellion within the realm? As long as she is treated delicately, people will continue to believe that they too can disobey me. I spoke quietly into her ear, as I did not wish for everyone to know of my anger, and ordered her to not speak of such things again.

Anne understood, perhaps even before I did. She knew that allowing Mary’s rebellion set a dangerous precedent, even when I was still hoping that Mary could be prevailed upon to see reason. Only now do I see that Anne was right, that for the sake of the stability of my country, I have to be firm with Mary, to treat her as I would any other person who refuses to yield to their lord and king.

Jane doesn’t understand that at all, too caught up in her sympathy for a child she sees as ill-used. Perhaps that is another reason why I don’t accord her the same latitude as I did with Anne. For all her high-strung behavior when severely stressed and upset, Anne was a warrior in her own way. She knew when a person had to be hard, where Jane doesn’t.

I must stay the course. I can only pray that Mary doesn’t force me to send her down the same path so many others walked. I have no desire to have my daughter’s blood stain a scaffold.

* * *

EXCERPT OF A LETTER TO QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE, FROM GEORGE BOLEYN, VISCOUNT ROCHFORD  
 _5 July 1536_

Anne,

Shocking news! It seems that the Lady Mary has finally signed the Oath! Her submission was sent to Cromwell only three days ago, and the king is quite pleased. So pleased, in fact, that he has had escorted from Hatfield to Hunsdon, and even ordered Cromwell to begin setting up a small household for her.

If the king is pleased, the Seymour woman is even more so. According to our uncle’s spies in the household, she has been fretting hugely on what gift to give the girl, acting as though Mary is of higher rank than her.

[…]

* * *

JANE SEYMOUR’S DIARY  
 _5 July 1536  
Whitehall_

Oh, thanks be to God! Lady Mary has signed the Oath! I was so afraid of what might happen to her if she did not, and I knew I could do nothing to protect her. Now there is nothing to worry about, for she is safe! Thank God!

I have been of the mind to send her a gift, to assure her of my love and friendship, but was undecided as to what to actually send her, and shortly before the midday meal, I asked Lady R’s opinion on the subject and mentioned how much I was looking forward to meeting the young ~~pri~~ woman. Lady R then asked me if I wished to get something for Princess Elizabeth as well, or if I would rather wait until a time closer to the little girl’s birthday.

It was a legitimate question, but I admit that I try not to think of the girl too much who, though she hasn’t visited her father in several months, is still the king’s heir until I bear him a son. She is being raised more and more by her mother, who no longer has the duties of a Queen of England to keep them apart. I’m afraid, I think, of what Elizabeth might become, being raised by a woman whose hatred of me is almost legendary. If I don’t have a boy and Elizabeth succeeds her father, I know I will be at Anne’s mercy, which is negligible. If she doesn’t have her daughter execute me on some trumped up charge, I don’t doubt that I’ll be poisoned or gotten rid of in some other subtle manner.

Lady R interrupted my increasingly fearful thoughts, suggesting some kind of jewel for the Lady Mary, since she is only just now being granted funds enough to support a king’s daughter. I agreed with the suggestion, as well as putting off getting any kind of gift for Elizabeth until her birthday. I must focus on the here and now, and try not to worry overly about the future, which is in God’s hands.

No matter how afraid I am.

* * *

LETTER TO QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE, FROM LADY MARY STAFFORD  
 _15 July 1536_

Your Most Gracious Highness,

I must say, I was surprised to receive your letter of inquiry, but it was a pleasant one nonetheless. My husband and I do quite well here upon our small estate. It is not a grand thing, nothing I could have had if I had held out for a higher man, but I would not trade it for all the palaces in England. Nor do I think my husband would turn me away to be a king.

We have two children now, a girl, Anne Stafford, who is now two years old, and a son, Edward, who will reach his first birthday at the end of August. Both are bonny and healthy, and I know no people who could possibly be dearer to my husband and me.

We have heard much of the change in your circumstances, Your Highness, and I wish to convey my support to you. It is no easy thing, to give up what you have. I hope you have found solace in your new life, however, and are not overly vexed.

I would indeed like to hear more from you, if that be your desire to write to me.

I remain,

Your Sister,  
Lady Mary Stafford

* * *

DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _1 August 1536  
Richmond_

Jane and I made the trip to Hunsdon today, to visit Mary. I was awed at how beautiful she looked. She has grown so much, and so much has been missed. My pearl is an adult now. She looked up at me only when I lifted her head to meet my gaze, and I easily saw her apprehension. I wanted then nothing more than to take her into my arms, just like I used to when she was child.

I was very pleased at how quickly Mary and Jane took to one another. Jane’s gentle demeanor is exactly what Mary needs right now. Before we left, I gave her a note for a thousand crowns, so that she might continue to outfit her household and pay her servants their wages.

As Jane and I were born to back Richmond, though, I began to think. Mary is twenty years old now. Twenty years have passed since she was born and I still don’t have a son! I was twenty-five when she was born, and now I am forty-five. How many more years do I have left? If I have a son by the end of next year, I’ll be fortunate to live to see my boy reach the age of ten, and I remember too well the phrase, “Woe betide the nation whose king is a child.” That has been proved true over and over throughout England’s history. Henry III was a boy when his father died, and his mother had to crown him with one of her bracelets. Edward III was a young boy in his teens, and he spent his early years being ruled by his mother and her lover, both of whom had his father murdered. Richard II, Henry VI, Edward V, who was my mother’s brother, all of them began as child-kings who came to violent ends. Henry III and Edward III survived to reign for many years, but they were merely the exception, not the rule. Is that the fate of my son, who hasn’t even been born yet? If just one of my sons with Anne had lived, then at least they would at least already have started on their lives. Instead, I am still left with nothing, and it frightens me more than I can bear.

My mood was soured for the rest of the day, even when I sat down to eat with Jane. She was full of chatter about Mary, but I wasn’t very receptive, only giving her the vaguest of responses. Finally, Jane grew concerned and asked why I wouldn’t speak to her. I was in no mood to obfuscate, and told her that I was disappointed that she was not yet with child. The physicians had examined her numerous times since our marriage and pronounced her perfectly fertile, but there has been not a single sign of a child. Katherine and Anne both didn’t take this long to become pregnant when we began marital relations.

What if I gave Anne up for nothing? What if I’m not intended to have a son? Is Jane’s barrenness a sign of God’s displeasure?

* * *

EXCERPT FROM A LETTER TO QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE, FROM LADY MARY STAFFORD  
 _7 August 1536_

My Dear Sister,

Thank you for your letter and the gift you sent for my son’s approaching birthday. I think he shall have much enjoyment of the toys you have sent for him.

As per your invitation to join you at Queen’s Hall for Christmastide, I have spoken of the matter with my husband. William is not against such a visit, though he does worry about traveling at such a time of year. In any case, I could not travel at such a time and be away from my little ones. Perhaps we should arrange a time to meet again after the new year, if you still wish to see me?

[…]

* * *

EXCERPT OF A LETTER TO GEORGE BOLEYN, VISCOUNT ROCHFORD, FROM QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE  
 _7 September 1536_

Dear George,

Elizabeth’s birthday here at Hatfield was lovely. She loved all of the gifts that you and Father sent, and asked that I say thank you for her and that she misses you both. Everyone at Hatfield fussed and played with her all day, and she loved every minute of it. I was thrilled to be able to spend this day with her, especially since I missed her first and second birthdays.

The king, his wife, and Lady Mary all sent gifts for Elizabeth as well, but I admit, I was rather put out that Henry wouldn’t come out to Hatfield to spend it with Elizabeth on her special day. He and his ~~wh~~ wife can take the time to visit Lady Mary at Hunsdon, but they can’t do the same for the heir presumptive of this country? It shows all the signs of favoritism, at least on  that woman’s part. With Henry, who knows why he couldn’t take the time to visit his three-year-old daughter and heir on her birthday?

[…]

* * *

LETTER TO QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE, FROM LADY MARY STAFFORD  
 _8 September 1536_

Anne,

Please forgive the delay in my writing back to you. My children were both ill these past weeks and my attention has been focused on them and their recovery. Both are doing very well now, thanks be to God.

I must thank you for the offer of your carriages to transport me and my family to Queen’s Hall for Christmastide. My husband has no further objections, and so we will certainly look forward to seeing you come December.

I must ask, though, how will our Father take my presence? He made it clear to me that he wanted nothing further to do with me after my marriage, and I have no wish to ruin the celebrations with a scene, as much as I would love to see you and our brother.

Please wish my royal niece a happy birthday from her aunt, and that I hope to see her at Christmastide.

Your Sister,  
Mary Stafford

* * *

THE DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _14 October 1536  
Whitehall_

Those bastard ingrates!! How dare they rebel against their rightful lord and master? I’ll have their heads! I’ll have their bodies laid out at Tyburn for the birds to peck at!

This is Cromwell’s fault! He swore to me that the people were glad to see the monasteries dissolved, to see the moneys go to the task of enriching the kingdom rather than lining the pockets of corrupt friars and bishops. He is either completely out of touch with the people, or he lied to me. Either way, if this doesn’t end well, I will have his head on a pike!

I’ve ordered that Charles go north to deal with him, demanding that the leaders be brought to him with halters around their necks. I’ve warned everyone, if my demand is not met, I will annihilate the North, and then I will take Cromwell apart, piece by bloody piece if I have to.

Damn these bastards!

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _14 October 1536  
Queen’s Hall_

My household has spent the past week moving all our possessions into Queen’s Hall. Just as promised, the renovations were completed in early October, and the weather has held long enough for everyone and everything to be moved from Forsythe Manor. Everything was turning out just fine. I was even planning to invite Elizabeth to stay with me in my new home for a time, so that we might have some time together.

At tonight’s evening meal, my ladies and I were enjoying a hearty repast, accompanied by dear Smeaton’s lovely music. We were all exhausted from our continuous work, but were still taking pleasure in our time together, when suddenly the doors flew open to reveal a messenger.

The young man hurried toward me, barely even pausing to pay proper reverence, and handed me the letter he carried. It was from my father, who was full of news of a fierce northern rebellion. They are unhappy about the closing of their monasteries, as well as Lady Mary being displaced from the succession in Elizabeth’s favor.

I admit, I sympathize with them over the losing of their monasteries. I recall the early reports Cromwell had gathered and had remember noticing that, by far, the majority of the corrupt monasteries lay in the southern reaches of the kingdom. In the north, the monasteries were known to perform their tasks and were at the heart of their local communities, helping to keep them running. Now the northerners are calling for Cromwell’s head, calling him the Devil’s servant. I warned him that something like this would happen if he continued on the path of destroying all of the monasteries. Now he’s reaping what he’s sewn.

However, my sympathy is far outweighed by my fury. How dare these commoners presume to think they have any voice on the succession, which is the purview of the king alone. It was proven that Henry’s marriage with Katherine was invalid, and thus Lady Mary is illegitimate. As distressing as that is, for both her and for the people who have called her a princess for so many years, it is a fact. My marriage with Henry was a valid one, thus making Elizabeth legitimate. She is Henry’s heir unless the Seymour woman can be prevailed upon to give Henry a boy. Even I wouldn’t dispute it, no matter how much it galls me to think that I might one day have to bow to a son of hers.

I also worry about how Henry will react to this rebellion. He has never had to deal with a full-scale uprising before. Father told me that the closest to an open revolt that Henry has ever faced was Buckingham’s attempted coup d’etat, which was crushed before it could even really begin. Henry has never taken well to being opposed, and I fear that his increasing age will only make him even more belligerent. I think that there will be a massive slaughter before this ends, especially given how he reacted to those who refused to sign the Oath of Succession. If Henry won’t spare a good friend like Thomas More, he will have no mercy on the people of the north.

* * *

JANE SEYMOUR’S DIARY  
 _30 October 1536  
Whitehall_

The king is unwell. His jousting wound has flared up again, leaving him in great agony. I worry for him, especially given the rioters in the north protesting the closing of their religious houses. They are a simple people, wishing only to maintain the traditions that have brought them so much comfort over the centuries. If only the king and Master Cromwell weren’t so determined to destroy the monasteries and claim their treasures.

Not that many of the people here at court feel this way. The reformers and heretics have taken hold of this place, and refuse to see the harm they are doing to the common people of England. Lady R, for all her hatred of her husband’s family, shares their reformist sympathies, and said something I shan’t forget when we were discussing the subject: “These rebels are nothing more than villainous traitors who want to return us to the days of ignorance and superstition.”

It saddens me that so many people feel this way, that the Catholic faith is being so maligned, but I dare not say so out loud, not even to my principle lady-in-waiting. So instead, I changed the subject, asking for her assistance in arranging for a surprise to cheer the king in his weakened state. I think he should welcome a visit from the Lady Mary.

* * *

LETTER TO QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE, FROM GEORGE BOLEYN, VISCOUNT ROCHFORD  
 _8 November 1536_

Dear Anne,

The king continues his raging, despite the pain he currently endures from the reopening of his leg wound, or, perhaps he rages because of it. He consistently threatens to teach the rebels a ‘fearful, bloody lesson in slaughter’, while also lamenting the fact that Suffolk and Shrewsbury only complain about their lack of supplies and their inability to attack the villains without proper support.

It is times like this that I truly miss your presence at court, sister. For all your own fiery temper that so easily matched the king’s, you also had the uncanny ability to calm him from his rages. Queen Jane exerts no such influence, and her position remains weak due to her lack of being with child. Even her brothers are oft ignored by the king these days because their sister has yet to fulfill the king’s single greatest desire.

I know you refuse to come to court as long as Jane sits beside the king, Anne, but are you certain I cannot convince you to come anyway? The king might very well welcome your council, given his disgust with his current councilors. Cromwell, like the Seymours, is also in a bit of disgrace, and there are few other people that His Majesty trusts. This could be your moment to regain some influence.

I hope you remain well.

Your Brother,  
George, Lord R

* * *

EXCERPT FROM ANNE BOLEYN, QUEEN OF HEARTS, BY DR. NATALIE OLSEN

“There is a wealth of correspondence between Anne and her family during this time period, mostly with her brother, George. There is only one letter, however, between Anne and Henry, leading historians to conclude that either the rest of their correspondence was destroyed, or the two of them were deliberately not writing to one another, instead using an intermediary. The latter theory also seems unlikely, given that Cromwell would be the likely intermediary, and he kept meticulous records. That there is no record of any letters passing between him and Anne leads most historians to conclude that, apart from her keeping in touch with her family, Anne avoided contact with the court, and especially with Henry.”

* * *

EXPRESS TO HIS MAJESTY, HENRY VIII, FROM QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE  
 _10 November 1536_

Your Most Gracious Majesty,

I beg you to forgive me for writing you during such a crucial, chaotic time, but I have heard of the treasonous surrender of Pontefract Castle by Lord Darcy to the rebels. I was most alarmed when I received word of it, as I recall you once telling me of the immense strategic importance of that fortress, and how it is the gateway to the southern reaches of the kingdom.

In that vein, I wish to know if you had any special commands for how I should conduct myself in light of this dreadful news. Given that Hertfordshire is in the path of the rebels should they choose to march on London, would you wish for me to take our daughter, Her Highness Princess Elizabeth, to Hever, my family’s estate in Kent? Such a place is much further out of the rebels’ reach, and her safety would be much better assured there.

I await your orders and I am at your disposal.

Your Servant,  
Queen Anne, Duchess of Pembroke

* * *

THE DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _19 November 1536  
Whitehall_

Jane arranged a wonderful surprise for me in inviting Mary to come to visit us at court. She arrived in a full state befitting a child of mine, and looked lovelier than ever. We met in the center of the court, with all of the courtiers surrounding us, and I took the opportunity to chastise those who had urged me to put her to death for her earlier disobedience. I don’t think that she truly thought that the subjects of this kingdom had actually urged her death, and to know that she was wrong very much frightened her. She began to collapse from the terror, but I caught her in my arms and assured her that she was perfectly safe, that no one would ever harm her. We then spent some hours together ere I was forced to leave her to Jane’s attentions.

Unfortunately, the rest of my day was not so pleasant. Sir Ralph Neville and Mr. John Constable both arrived at court to treat with me on behalf of Robert Aske and the other rebels. I soundly berated them for their unholy disobedience to their anointed king, though they swear that they mean no slight against me personally, only my ‘evil councilors’ who seek to destroy their way of life. Cromwell proved himself incapable of keeping himself quiet and also added his censure, which did nothing other than to add fuel to their intransigence.

That night, I lay in bed with Jane. Her presence had soothed me after meeting with the villains, but just as I was about to drift off to sleep, Jane began to speak, pleading with me to end the violence by restoring and keeping the northern abbeys. Any contentment I had gained by then instantly melted away, and I reminded her of my warning her not to meddle in my affairs. She did not speak again, but I didn’t stop. The words were out of my mouth before I could fully consider them, but I told Jane that I loved her more than any other wife before her, and scolded her, telling her not to spoil my love. However, as I said the words, something inside of me seemed to almost twist rebelliously against the sentiments of which I spoke.

In those moments, all I could see before me was Anne. In those few scant moments, no one else existed. Not Katherine, not Jane, no one. I remembered her the first time I saw her, standing next to my sister in that masque, so young and fresh. I remembered her the first time we laid together, in France. I think we even conceived our Elizabeth there around that time. I remember our marriage, her coronation, how beautiful and beloved she was to me. My Anne.

Of course, even with all that I loved about Anne came her less desirable traits. Her jealousy, her inability to behave as a queen should and ignore the times I chose to take to the bed of another when hers was unavailable to me, and her hysteria. It was when I was enduring this less than endearing side of her that Jane came into my life. Jane’s gentleness and sweetness was like a balm, the most soothing of remedies. How I had loved her mild, kind manners, so different from Anne’s turbulent temper!

Now, though, I recognize what I could not see then. For all that Anne’s frenzies drove me away, it was her passion that drew me back to her, more than once over the years. I care tenderly for Jane, but I have none the passion for her that I had for Anne.

I miss her… temper and all.

God help me.

* * *

LETTER TO THOMAS HOWARD, DUKE OF NORFOLK, FROM QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE  
 _2 December 1536_

My Lord Uncle,

I received word from Lady Bryan that Elizabeth has been granted an invitation to join the king at court for Christmastide. I had hoped to have her visit me at Queen’s Hall at this time, so that she might spend some time with the rest of the Boleyns, but the king’s wishes are not to be gainsaid. In that light, I hoped that I might ask you a favor?

My father informed me that you will be present at court for the festivities, and since you will be there, could I prevail upon you to observe how my daughter is treated by the court, and most especially the king’s wife? This will be the first time that Elizabeth has visited the court since my separation from the king, and I am concerned about how his new wife will behave toward her. If you could write to me detailing her treatment, I will be most grateful.

Please send my love to Mistress Holland and wishes for an excellent holiday.

I remain,

Your Beloved Niece,  
Queen Anne, Duchess of Pembroke

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _25 December 1536  
Queen’s Hall_

Mary at last arrived here today at Queen’s Hall, her family in tow. I cannot begin to describe how happy I was to see her. Having not seen her for over two years, I was uncertain how much she might have changed, now being a mother and a wife to a man she well and truly esteems. However, she is not overly altered, aside from being full of happy light and love. She is, I see, truly cherished by her husband and children, and loves them all just as much in return.

William Stafford is more stoic than Mary, but I have only to watch him watch her to see the love that shines in his eyes. He may not be overly demonstrative in his affections, but they are no less real. I think that Mary has done well in her choice of husband, certainly far better than Sir William Carey, who was chosen for her by Henry and our father once the king had tired of her being his mistress.

Their children are quite adorable as well. Young Anne, my namesake, is an adorable imp, and Mary says that she looks much as I did at that age. Little Edward, however, is entirely his father’s son in appearance, though that might change as he grows older.

Father, as I warned Mary, was not the most gracious as he could have been toward them, but I had warned him before they arrived that he was to behave with dignity in my house, and I would tolerate no insults to my sister or her husband.

“She was cast out of our family,” he kept arguing.

Finally I snapped in return, “By you, perhaps, but not by me! I was wrong to turn my back on her simply for marrying the man she loved, especially when she had been fortunate enough to be able to do so, in light of the reputation you pressured her into cultivating.”

He remained taciturn and somewhat surly, but was not overly insulting was probably the best I could expect. My sister-in-law, who accompanied Father and George from court, was quiet on the subject, but that was a blessing. None of us wanted to know Jane’s opinion anyway. George, on the other hand, was as happy as I to see Mary. We were always close, and it was wonderful to be together again.

I had opened Elizabeth’s chambers for Mary to use for her own children, since my daughter was spending Christmastide with her father at court. I even hired two temporary nurses to look after young Anne and Edward while Mary was with the rest of us. I was sparing no expense for Mary’s visit, and wanted everything to be perfect.

After Mary and I had seen to the children being settled, we were given a moment to ourselves. She just looked at me in that manner that she had always had – open, sweet, and kind, and I felt tears begin to sting my eyes. I couldn’t help but whisper her name, and she said, “Oh Anne, dearest Anne,” and just like that, we were in each other’s arms.

I must have been breathing apologies for my appalling behavior into her ear, because after a moment, she pulled back and said to me, “Darling, I forgave you long ago. All is well now.”

Her words were such a relief, lifting a weight that had been on my chest for so long that I had forgotten what it was to lift without it. My sister had forgiven me. I do not think even the forgiveness of God for my many sins could matter more to me.

The supper the family shared that evening went fairly well too, thankfully. My cooks had outdone themselves, and we all ate heartily.

Mary was happy to sing the praises of her home in Staffordshire. Stafford’s estate, Chebsey, was not particularly large or wealthy, but to hear my sister speak of it, it might as well be a palace with the most exquisite land in all of Europe around it. She was so proud of her husband’s management of the estate, and stated that it was the perfect size for the family.

Father snorted into his soup, but none of us paid him any mind. George and I in particular were enjoying our sister’s tales of her home, and we were both glad to see her so happy. Neither George nor I had been overly happy in our married lives, so to know that at least one of the three of us had managed a marriage that suited our tastes was of some consolation.

I did ask if I had disrupted any plans Mary and Stafford might have had for this time of year with my invitation, as I was so eager to fill my house with family during the holidays, but Stafford said that they were honored to receive my gracious invitation. I’m fairly certain I heard some sarcasm in his tone, which makes me think that while Mary has forgiven me of turning my back on her, her husband has yet to do so.

Father, of course, just couldn’t keep his peace. He said, “If you were so eager to be around people, Anne, then you should have come to court.”

I wanted to slap him. George had made the suggestion that I return to court in a letter some months ago, when the northern rebellion began, but I had quite succinctly refused. I said to Father that I could not possibly impose upon the king and his new wife for their first Christmas together, but truly I wouldn’t go because it would mean bowing and making way for that woman. I had accepted Henry’s marriage to her on paper, but I refused to do any more than what was required of me out here in the country. I even obtained gifts for them and for Lady Mary, and sent them along with Elizabeth when she went to court. That’s enough.

Aware of the uncomfortable silence that had settled over us, George began to speak of the current politics. It seems that Henry invited Robert Aske to join the court for the Christmas festivities, so as to give the impression that he is willing to humoring the rebels. George, though, thinks that it is only a matter of time before the king will disabuse them of any notion that he will treat with them.

I was hardly any more pleased with this subject than I was with the last one. All it did was serve to remind me that, if not for my baby boy’s death, I would still be at court, right in the middle of everything, where I could be of some use.

Thankfully, Stafford spoke up and distracted George with talk of the horses he was breeding. That served to keep the rest of us all occupied for the rest of the meal.

* * *

THE DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _25 December 1536  
Hampton Court_

The celebrations at court were delightful this year. There was little indication of the rebellion and all the stresses it brought, aside from the presence of Robert Aske, who spent most of the evening making himself as unobtrusive as possible. I had Mary and Jane with me, and our party was almost complete as we watched the dancing while waiting for the last of our guests to arrive.

Finally, the court crier announced the arrival of the one I was waiting for. “Her Royal Highness, the Princess Elizabeth!”

The entire court seemed to grow quiet as Elizabeth appeared. She walked as swiftly as her legs would allow her, not looking at the people around her or paying them any kind of mind. I, on the other hand, noted the slight hesitation on the part of some people to bend at the knee to my heir, and made a note to put speak with a few people later about it. I will tolerate no insult on my daughter’s dignity. I quickly put that out of my mind, though, when I focused on Elizabeth.

She was beautiful, even more so than my memories suggested. It was then I realized that it could be no other way, since I hadn’t seen her in over a year, not since that impromptu party thrown at Wolf Hall after Katherine’s death, when I first invited Sir John to bring Jane to court. Elizabeth had grown quite a bit since then, and was lovely. With all the changes that had come about this year – my separation from Anne, marrying Jane, and our new life together – had hardly left Elizabeth high in my thoughts, which was wrong, I thought with some guilt. Jane and I had made time more than once for Mary, visiting her at Hunsdon and inviting her to come to court. Surely it was no hardship to do the same for Elizabeth?

Lady Bryan, who had accompanied her charge and was a step behind her, began to introduce Elizabeth, but I waved her off. There was no need to tell me who my own child was. Elizabeth’s appearance, though, continued to marvel me. Her eyes alone were enough to mark her as Anne’s child, but it was the rest of her appearance that struck me. The round, full face, her red hair that cascaded past her shoulders, all marked her as a Tudor. More than once I have heard people compare her to my mother, her namesake, Elizabeth of York, but I saw someone else in that polite gaze that hid a mischievous personality.

I saw Margaret in my daughter. It was almost uncanny, the similarities.

Elizabeth broke the silence and my thoughts by greeting me in pretty French. I smiled, delighted. It seemed that, even with our having been apart, her education had not been neglected. I imagine I have Anne to thank for that. I responded in French as well, and then held out my arms to her. She broke into a wide, happy smile and nearly ran into my embrace, much as she had done when we were last together at Wolf Hall. I lifted her up into my lap, happily cuddling her close and kissing her cheek. I then looked up at my courtiers, many of whom were smiling, and proclaimed, “Je suis en famille!”

Everyone was delighted and applause exploded through the hall. I took that moment to look to my left and noticed a potential problem. Mary was seated there, and there was no additional chair for Elizabeth, though, truthfully, Mary should be the one to make way. I had no desire to push my elder daughter off of the dais, though. Why had there not been another chair placed there? It was no secret that Elizabeth had been invited to join us this year.

Thankfully, Mary was quick to address the problem and called for another chair to be brought. Once it was placed next to the one she was sitting in, Mary stood up and stepped over to it. I then stood briefly to place Elizabeth in the chair Mary vacated, and moments later, all four of us were comfortably seated. I was rather grateful for Mary’s quick movements, and that there hadn’t been a scene.

I was about to wave for the music to begin again when Elizabeth asked, “May I present gifts, Papa?”

I admit, I was surprised that the little one had thought to bring gifts. At her age, most children think only of receiving gifts. Still, I saw no harm in indulging her and agreed. She then waved her hand in a most elegant manner – no doubt copied from Anne – and a group of footmen stepped forward. Elizabeth then told me that these gifts were not from her, but from her mama. I was shocked. I had not expected Anne to send anything at all, but she had astonished me. There was a pair of expensive silver goblets for me and Jane, and a beautiful pearl jewelry set had been given to Mary. I was rather touched that Anne had sent something for Mary, and was pleased to see that some kind of peace had been reached between my eldest child and the mother of my heir presumptive.

I made a point of telling Elizabeth that I found the gifts lovely, and asked Jane if she agreed. She did, of course, and stated that we must send a letter of thanks to ‘Her Grace’. I frowned a bit at this lesser form of address than what Anne was entitled to, but said nothing, not wanting to upset Elizabeth.

After these gifts were presented, Elizabeth wasted no time in calling in the gifts she herself had chosen. Mary and Jane were given some lovely fabrics, and I received an ornate, jeweled dagger. Elizabeth even leaned close and whispered that she had chosen the jewels inlaid in the hilt. She was obviously very proud of her accomplishment. I thanked her effusively, swearing that I would wear it always in the defense of our kingdom.

Mary was also thorough in her thanks, but Jane was quite less so in comparison. Fortunately, Elizabeth didn’t notice Jane’s lack of enthusiasm. I did resolve to speak to Jane about it. I didn’t want her upsetting my youngest daughter during the holidays. Jane knew how to behave better than this.

* * *

JANE SEYMOUR’S DIARY  
 _30 December 1536  
Hampton Court_

Edward, it seems, has taken issue with my treatment of Lady Elizabeth. He spent the better part of an hour today scolding me for being so blatant in my ‘snubbing’ of the girl that even His Majesty noticed and took issue with it. Edward made it clear that I cannot afford to antagonize the king until I finally conceive and bear a healthy son.

I fear the only excuse I could articulate for my brother was that I want the best of everything for the Lady Mary, something I cannot give her so long as the harlot’s child resides at court. Unfortunately, I was blunt enough to actually refer to her as ‘the harlot’s child’ out loud, and I think that if I were not the Queen of England, Edward might have struck me. The coldly furious expression on his face was more frightening than Thomas’ frequent bursts of hot temper.

Slowly, with clear enunciation, Edward said, “The Lady Mary has publicly resigned herself to being His Majesty’s illegitimate child and made way for Princess Elizabeth. I suggest, sister, that you do the same, before the king comes down even harder on you for insulting his heir presumptive.”

He left me soon after, and I was left alone to ‘resign myself’ to the fact that Queen Katherine’s daughter, the grandchild of the Catholic Kings, must stand aside for the child of a whore. That child that terrifies me, because of how much she reminds me of her mother.


	2. January 1537 -- October 1537

EXCERPT OF A LETTER TO QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE, FROM THOMAS HOWARD, DUKE OF NORFOLK  
 _4 January 1537_

Your Highness,

I hope that your holidays were to your liking with most of your family with you again. The court’s festivities were also quite pleasing and successful. In accordance to your request, I carefully watched the behavior that was accorded your daughter, my grandniece. I believe you were right to have concerns.

The king, of course, afforded her every respect that was due her, as did the Lady Mary and at least a third of the court. Others proved slightly more hesitant, as was seen when Her Highness was first presented to her royal father before the court. The gifts that you sent and that Her Highness chose were also received with great delight from both the king and Lady Mary, but less so from Queen Jane. Of course, such behavior was immediately noticed, and the gossip began to spread within hours that Her Majesty does not look upon the Princess Elizabeth with as much favor as the Lady Mary. Soon her behavior was so noticeable that the king is believed to have unhappily remarked upon it, scolding her. My informant in the Seymour household also witnessed that Beauchamp is also displeased with his foolish sister for insulting the heir to the throne, and informed me of it in great detail.

[…]

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _7 January 1537  
Queen’s Hall_

A portion of Elizabeth’s household stopped at Queen’s Hall to stay with me for a short period, while the rest went on to open Hatfield and make it ready for her arrival. Fortunately, my father, George, Jane, Mary, and her family had all already returned either to their homes or to court, so there was no issue with space, and Elizabeth’s chambers had been scrubbed clean just for her.

Elizabeth was full of talk about her time at court, singing her father and Lady Mary’s praises about how much attention they both paid her. She even showed me some of the presents she was given – a lovely doll from Lady Mary, jewels from Henry, and even a little hairclip from the Seymour woman.

Recalling the Seymour woman’s treatment of Elizabeth that my uncle had written of, I cautiously asked her about Jane, being careful not to indicate anything negative against the woman. I’ll not give Henry a chance to accuse me of turning our child against his wife. Elizabeth, though, was more observant than I gave her credit for. She was very well aware that ‘Queen Jane’ didn’t like her as much as Lady Mary, but Elizabeth didn’t mind. She knows her papa and sister and mama love her, and that’s enough.

I was a bit thrown by my girl’s perceptiveness, to be honest. Only three years old, and she saw and understood all of that? Not to mention, she comprehended it without becoming hurt or angry. I was furious when I read my uncle’s letter and George and Mary both had to calm me down to keep me from returning to court just to slap the wench for behaving so toward my child.

Elizabeth never ceases to amaze me. She is so clever, and like me in so many ways, but has not my intemperate disposition. Perhaps that will serve her well one day.

* * *

EXPRESS TO QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE, FROM GEORGE BOLEYN, VISCOUNT ROCHFORD  
 _1 February 1537_

Anne,

Urgent news. My cellmate in the purgatory that is my marriage has informed me, albeit in the heat of anger, that Queen Jane is expecting a child. She took great pleasure in informing me that the Boleyn’s single claim to the throne would be supplanted by Jane Seymour’s son by the end of the year.

I went and immediately informed Uncle Norfolk and Father of the news, and while the news had not yet reached them, we are taking it as credible, at least for the moment.

The only piece of good news in all of this is that the king has taken a mistress, Lady Ursula Misseldon, and we don’t think the king is yet aware that his wife could be with child. His interest in her may well be waning.

Keep heart, sister.

George

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _2 February 1537  
Queen’s Hall_

I smashed a vase against my wall today, frightening half of my ladies out of their wits.

I’m not sorry for it.

* * *

JANE SEYMOUR’S DIARY  
 _18 February 1537  
Whitehall_

I was finally able to inform His Majesty about my being with child, now that I am as certain as I can be about the babe’s existence. The midwives and Dr. Linacre have both confirmed it to the best of their abilities, so it seemed safe enough to do so.

The king was overjoyed to learn of my condition, and I am delighted to see him so happy. It has improved his mood with me, and he seems to have quite forgotten our disagreement concerning Princess Elizabeth.

I pray every day that this child is a boy, as a son is my only defense against Anne Boleyn one day to haunt and take revenge upon me. If Elizabeth succeeds His Majesty while I still live, I know I cannot expect any kind treatment from her or her mother, whose place I took in the king’s heart. A son is all that will save me from them.

* * *

EXCERPT OF A LETTER TO LADY MARY STAFFORD FROM QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE  
 _22 February 1537_

Mary,

I received official word of the Seymour woman’s pregnancy, though I’d already heard about it from George at the beginning of the month. The king is beside himself with excitement, and is certain that this time it will be a boy. Bah. He was just as certain when I was carrying Elizabeth. What makes him so certain that this woman will succeed where a Spanish princess and the woman he once called the love of his life failed?

You will probably think me a harpy, Mary, but I cannot help but hope that she has a girl, just as I did. Let her live with the fear that I had to after Elizabeth was born. She stole my life and killed my son, why should she reap the ultimate reward of having a living boy?

[…]

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _1 April 1537  
Chestnut Great House_

I’d hoped that spending time at one of my other estates would help ease my mind, but I fear it is no use. My household had no sooner settled in when we all began to hear of what was going on in the North. It seems that Suffolk’s initial punishment laid out upon the rebels was not enough to satisfy Henry, and he has ordered Brandon back to make a bloody, fearful example. The numbers of people he has killed haven’t been fully tallied yet. Some are saying as few as two thousand.

This, all of this, sickens me, no matter how much I might disagree with these people ideologically. Even if they wanted to return Lady Mary to the succession ahead of my Elizabeth, I would never condone wholesale annihilation of women and children. This, what Henry has ordered, strikes me with a horror that I have never felt before.

He executed those who would not sign the Oath of Succession, men like Fisher and More. Still, there had never been such indiscriminate killing in my or Elizabeth’s name. What in God’s name has happened to him that he would command this? Is that Seymour woman not urging him to mercy? Is she such a coward that she won’t speak up?

Has the whole world gone to the Devil?

* * *

JANE SEYMOUR’S DIARY  
 _21 May 1537  
Hampton Court_

The celebrations over my pregnancy here at court have reached an almost fevered pitch, and I am still several months away from giving birth. A day never fails to pass that I do not hear of someone commenting on how wondrous it will be to have a male heir, for the succession to finally be secured by more than a single little girl after so many years of waiting. One would think that my child is our Lord’s Second Coming!

Of course, such talk is nothing compared to the lectures I receive almost weekly from Edward. He has more than made it abundantly clear that our family’s survival depends on the birth of a hale and healthy boy. The king put Queen Katherine aside for not giving him a son, and the harlot was only able to walk away after the death of her son because of her willingness to set the king free to try again with me. Edward speaks plainly when he says that if Anne Boleyn ever even hinted at resisting Henry’s attempts to free himself of her, she would never have made it out of London alive, and Elizabeth would be publicly declared a bastard. Edward is certain that such an arrangement will not be accepted again. If I fail, Edward says, then it will be our family’s collective heads that will rest on London Bridge.

* * *

THE DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _7 September 1537  
Hampton Court_

The festivities for Elizabeth’s birthday were magnificent. Mary did wonderfully, stepping up in Jane’s place so that she would not overexert herself so late in her pregnancy. Elizabeth, who arrived here at court not two days ago, was delighted with the attention paid to her. Though she does not know it, there were even a few ambassadors present at the celebration, observing her for a possible marriage match. The Danes have expressed curiosity about her, along with the Norwegians. Hardly the grand French match that Anne has always wanted for our daughter, but given that the Danes are seeking a bride for their Crown Prince, I don’t see how it’s any less honorable for her to one day be the Queen of Denmark. If anything, it would be an even better match, since in France, likely the best Elizabeth could hope for was to be the Duchesse d’Angoulême. A queen still outranks a duchess, no matter what country you come from or adopt as your own.

Speaking of Anne, she was invited to come and take part in Elizabeth’s fête, but pleaded ill health. Anne has hardly ever been ill a day in her life, aside from when she was stricken with the sweating sickness. I’ve no doubt that she lied, but I didn’t make her attendance a royal command. No need to cause a scene, especially with Jane’s health so delicate…

* * *

LETTER TO LADY MARY STAFFORD FROM QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE  
 _17 September 1537_

My Dear Sister,

You said some months ago in a letter that it made me perfectly human to dislike Jane Seymour, and invited me to churn out my bitterness to you in writing if it would help me. I hope you won’t regret making such an offer.

I had a letter from George recently, full of the news from court. The first thing in that letter was the news of the Seymour woman’s advancing pregnancy, that she has felt the child move, confirming that it is indeed alive.

I don’t think I can describe adequately how much such news hurt me. It all serves to remind me of that horrible, awful day last January, when I lost everything – my son, my husband’s love, my title. It had begun as such a glorious day too, for I had felt my baby move within my womb. That movement had meant so much to me, because it had happened shortly after the king’s jousting accident. That was why I was seeking him out – I had wanted to share the good news after the fear and heartache we had both just suffered.

I walked into the king’s chambers and… there they were. She was in his lap, kissing him. He held her so tenderly, so gently, as though she was already his wife and carrying his child (and for all I knew, she did have a bastard in her belly at the time). I staggered beneath the blow of what I saw in those moments, and felt every bit of happiness I’d ever felt be sucked out of my very soul, like I would never ever feel any kind of joy again. My belly began to cramp and contract, as though my son too was revolted by his father’s actions. Not six hours later, that baby was gone, fled into God’s embrace, clearly unwilling to live in a world where his father would treat his mother with such cruelty.

I still feel the agony of that day as though it happened today, Mary, and not over a year ago. Is this a pain that will ever end? I ache every day for that little boy, and the child that I lost the year after Elizabeth was born too, I ache for both of them.

Why, sister? Why does Jane Seymour get to have a child after she helped to kill mine? What is God’s logic in this? I could ask Archbishop Cranmer, but I am sure he would only say that we must trust in God’s design. It has always been in me to ask questions, though. It was something our father could not have switched out of me as a child, and it certainly will not leave me now.

I could continue to bemoan the unfairness of it all, but I fear I have burdened you enough. Though, you were right, it did help to write these feelings down.

Thank you, Mary. Thank you so much.

Your Loving Sister,  
Anne

* * *

THE DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _21 September 1537  
Hampton Court_

I ordered my brother-in-law Beauchamp to prepare for the celebrations for the birth of my son during the walk we took through the gardens today. Edward was very supportive, of course, but the entire discussion brought back memories. I only briefly mentioned the celebrations that were prepared for Elizabeth’s birth, and how many of them were cancelled, but my thoughts strayed to the subject again and again.

I look back and remember the crushing disappointment when I was told that Anne had been delivered of a girl, and not the boy she had promised me. Anne looked so… fragile, lying in that bed, holding our child close. Fragile and… afraid. Afraid of what? At the time, there was still hope of having a son; the two babies that died afterward had not come along yet. But Anne’s eyes were wide and wary that day, as though she feared being denounced at that very moment.

Now, I look at our daughter, and cannot help but be proud. True, my need for a son is more imperative than ever, but Elizabeth… she is the perfect princess that I always wanted, a true Tudor, and I couldn’t imagine her being anything other than what she is now. There is grace in her, inherited not just from her mother, but mine as well, and there is a great well of strength in her too. I wonder, what would my grandmother have thought of her? Would she have seen the Tudor blood run true in Elizabeth as I do?

Anne and I never did anything so well as to create our daughter.

Now Jane and I are to have our son. Surely he’ll be just as wonderful as Elizabeth. Even if I admit, only in the confines of these pages, that the boy wasn’t conceived with the great passion that Anne and I had for one another, surely he’ll be as amazing and unique as both of his sisters.

Edward assured me that Jane will come through for me and for England, and that there will be no need for a cancellation this time. My son, he says, will be here by the end of the next month, he is sure of it.

* * *

EXCERPT FROM HENRY VIII: A LIFE, BY DR. ERIC THOMPSON

“The period of days from 9 through 12 October must have been some of the tensest of Henry’s reign. The records all state that Queen Jane was in labor that entire time, and endured untold agonies as she sought to deliver her child. Constant missives were sent into London with updates on the Queen’s condition, though they likely become repetitive, saying only that the Queen was still in labor.

Reports made from various courtiers say that the Lady Mary was present in the birthing chamber, despite her maiden status, which just emphasizes the close bond between Jane and Mary. Elizabeth, who was also at court, was reported to have even slipped away from her nurses to join the king in the chapel, praying for Jane’s safe deliverance.

The labor continued for so long that the physicians and midwives were forced to broach the subject of the king having to choose between the life of the mother and of the child. There is no record stating if Henry gave the word one way or the other, but ultimately, it was unnecessary. Henry’s son, the boy he had waited over thirty years for, was born on 12 October 1537.

The celebrations were such the like that had never been seen in Henry’s reign, even when Henry Fitzroy was born. Henry was said to have wept when first told the news, but then threw himself into commemorating the occasion with zest. He was said to have thanked Jane repeatedly for their son, and even made predictions that surely a Duke of York would follow within a year or so.

What Jane thought of everything, we do not know. Though there is some indication that Jane wrote in a diary, much as Henry and Anne did, it has never been found. Such a volume has never turned up in the many papers of Henry VIII or Edward VI or even Elizabeth I. It’s possible that the diary ended up in the papers of the Lady Mary after she became the Countess of Westmoreland, but those papers were lost in a fire in the nineteenth century. If that is the case, then a great historical resource concerning that time period of Henry’s reign has been lost.”

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _13 October 1537  
Forsythe Hall_

Henry has a son, a healthy son. Jane Seymour succeeded.

I want to rage, to scream. I have another vase sitting right in front of me that I can throw, just as I did when I found out the woman was pregnant, but I just…

It’s gone. My daughter has been robbed of her place as her father’s heir. At most, she’ll be fobbed off on a French or, more horribly, Spanish duke, and that’s if either country can be convinced to accept her legitimacy. If that doesn’t happen, then it’s possible that she won’t marry at all. She’d have my inheritance, but what family? George won’t touch his wife, and so will have no children of his own. There are Mary’s children, but Elizabeth has never even met them. And Jane’s boy? I don’t see his mother encouraging filial feelings between her son and my daughter.

What is left for Elizabeth, for either of us, now?

* * *

THE DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _15 October 1537  
Hampton Court_

My son was christened today. Edward, Duke of Cornwall, Earl of Chester. It won’t be long ere I invest him as the Prince of Wales, but that will come soon enough. For now, I may take heart in knowing that I have finally performed my greatest duty to my people and my kingdom – I have given them a male heir to follow me once I am called to my holy reward.

The ceremony was very well done. Mary was invited to stand as her brother’s godmother, and she bore him with all care. Elizabeth too was thrilled to take part in the service, carrying the chrisom. Though, because of her tender age, Beauchamp, who will soon be made an Earl as part of the celebrations, carried her in his arms. As I watched the ritual take place, I couldn’t help but feel more at peace than I have in years. My family is at last complete. My two lovely daughters, and now my beloved son, my Edward.

God has been very good to me.

* * *

FROM THE PAPERS OF HERBERT LINACRE, HIS MAJESTY’S PERSONAL PHYSICIAN  
 _23 October 1537  
Hampton Court_

Her Majesty’s condition has been in dire straits these past several days, but this evening had a loosening of the bowels. We have continued to bleed her, in the hope that releasing as many of the toxins in her body as we can that we might save her.

We […]

 _Note: Rest of record destroyed._

* * *

THE DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _24 October 1537  
Hampton Court_

Oh, God, no. Please, no. Not Jane. No. My son needs his mother. Please, God, why? Why take her away from me? What have I done to so offend you that you take the mother of an innocent child from this world?

Addendum: My Jane was laid out in state in the chapel, the very same chapel we were married in. Was that it? Has God punished me for my hasty marriage to Jane after my separation from Anne? Was she punished for the loss of the boy we lost last January?

Please, God, it was not her fault! The guilt was mine! Not hers, never hers!

God…

* * *

EXCERPT FROM HENRY VIII: A LIFE, BY DR. ERIC THOMPSON

“The 24 October entry in Henry’s diary was the last one for that year. Though there are other records of what was going on in the court in that time period, Henry himself wrote nothing of his personal thoughts. Various courtiers wrote of his continuous grief over the death of Jane Seymour, as well as his withdrawal from most of his public duties. It was over these months that chaos began to descend on England.”


	3. January 1538 -- July 1538

LETTER TO QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE, FROM LADY MARY TUDOR  
 _26 January 1538_

Your Grace,

Please forgive the impertinence of my writing to you without invitation, but I fear I have no other choice. No doubt you have heard of His Majesty’s continued grief over the death of his beloved wife, Queen Jane. His sorrow is so great of the likes of which I have never seen in him, the king being such a strong, capable man. It frightens me to see him in such a state.

I do not know if you have also heard of the rising amount of violence in and around the court? Factions have broken out among the court, and various individuals have been injured. One of the retainers of the Earl of Hertford has been killed, and the Sergeant at Arms has been unable to find the villain. Women here at court are afraid to walk the corridors of Whitehall, and will only do so if attended by their husbands and sons. No one here feels safe, even with the king in residence and weapons being expressly forbidden.

I am writing to you, Madam, because I know you once had great influence with His Majesty. He listened to you. I fear that the only way that peace can be regained here at court is if His Majesty comes out of his seclusion and restores order. However, no one has been able to convince him to do so, not the Earl of Hertford, not the Lord Privy Seal, no one. The king will see only his fool, Will Somers.

I am asking you, Your Grace, to return to court. If anyone can bring the king out to take charge again, it is you.

Please.

Lady Mary Tudor

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _29 January 1538  
Whitehall_

The irony is not lost upon me that I should arrive back at court on this day. Two years ago today, I lost my boy, along with all my dreams. I return to drag Henry out of his throes of grief, and hopefully return some semblance of order.

The apartments that were mine by right of being the Duchess of Pembroke were in quite a state when my ladies and I arrived. Since I had sent no word ahead of my coming, they had not even been opened and aired in preparation for my arrival. My servants would have quite a time of it, making the place fit for habitation. I left them to their work, however, and did not wait there for them. Instead, accompanied by Nan, I made my way immediately to Henry’s chambers. Several people were gathered around the doors, including Bishop Gardiner, Suffolk, Cromwell, and Sir Richard Rich. When they saw me approach, I think their jaws all dropped at once.

I swept past them, paying them no need as I threw open the door and stepped into Henry’s chamber. I knew that such a tactic would not work again in the future, as I had now lost the element of surprise. I would have only one chance to gain Henry’s cooperation.

The room was dark and musty, no more hospitable than my chambers currently were. It took several moments, but I eventually spotted Henry, lying on a carpet near the fireplace. I gazed at him, shocked at the change that had overcome him in just two years. I could see the grey in his hair and beard, the added weight around his middle. Had so much happened to cause such a large change?

His name slipped from my lips before I could stop it. “Henry.”

He reacted to my voice only by opening his eyes and looking in my direction. “Anne.” His voice too was barely above a whisper, weak and full of misery.

I was still angry with him for his part in our child’s death. My rage still simmered, beneath the surface, but for now, it fell away in the face of my pity. Henry, the man I once loved more than anything, was suffering. I blinked back my tears, and slowly moved closer.

Henry didn’t object, and so I knelt down onto the floor next to him. “What are you doing, Henry?” I asked him quietly.

His eyes were red with tears and wine, and there was a vacant expression there. “God has punished me in taking her away.” He continued muttering about his sins, a child – our child? The one lost on this very day two years previous? – and how Jane paid when the fault was his, not hers.

I had no words to comfort him, for I indeed held him at least partially responsible for the death of my son, though not solely. Whatever Henry says, Jane Seymour knew what she was doing that day, knew anyone could have walked in, and therefore knew I could walk in. Still, I said none of that, and instead shifted my body until my lap was beneath Henry’s head. I stroked my fingers through his hair, much as I had once done in earlier, happier times, and made soothing, gentle noises until he quieted.

He might have dozed for a time, but eventually he opened his eyes again, and this time, they were clear. Henry blinked several times, and then focused on me. “You really are here,” he said quietly.

I nodded, and said that Lady Mary thought he needed someone other than his fool. Thankfully, he wasn’t angry with his daughter for sending for me. Instead, he rolled off of me and managed to push himself to his feet. I noticed that he heavily favored the leg he had wounded in the joust two Januarys ago, and I wondered how bad it was to still affect him. Still, that did not stop him from leaning down and offering me a hand to help me up.

He asked me how long I was at court for, and I didn’t respond at first. In all honesty, I hadn’t made any definite plans when I had left Queen’s Hall after receiving the Lady Mary’s letter. Anger has been almost all I have felt for Henry in the past two years, but when I read her words, all I could think of was getting here. By God, am I truly so weak to love a man I despise in equal parts?

After a moment, I replied, “I shall stay as long as I’m needed, Your Majesty.”

That seemed to satisfy him, and he nodded. He murmured something about letting it be known that I had full access to his chambers, and then he escorted me to the door. His whisper of thanks in my ear was like a bird fluttering in the leaves of a tree.

* * *

EXCERPT OF A LETTER TO QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE, FROM LADY MARY STAFFORD  
 _9 February 1538_

My Dear Sister,

When I first heard of your sudden return to court, I was shocked. After you spoke so vehemently of never wanting to go back there again, I never doubted your feelings on the matter. Still, after reading your letter, I think I may understand you.

I think, Anne, that the heart is perhaps the strangest organ in our bodies. We may hate and love in equal measures those who are closest to us. You and the king have a great deal of time, nearly a decade, in which you spent together amid joy, frustration, happiness, sorrow. That you hate him after how everything ended isn’t surprising, but then, neither is your desire to comfort him when he is broken. Love and hate clearly aren’t that dissimilar. That it hurts you when he says that he misses Mistress Seymour says enough that you still love him, even as you despise him.

[…]

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _10 February 1538  
Whitehall_

The Sergeant at Arms was murdered yesterday, just outside this very palace. Never before has someone of such standing been harmed in living memory, especially not when the king was in residence. It is an outrage, and the Privy Council is far too busy squabbling with each other to set things in order. Half of them had tantrums, including George, when Cromwell had the temerity to summon them to Council, of all things! Fools! He is Lord Chancellor and Lord Privy Seal! Whatever his birth, he is Henry’s closest and most trusted councilor, and they shriek because they are Dukes and Earls and Viscounts?

I ask this: The transgressions of Eve aside, why did God determine that men should lead this world instead of women? Surely my sex could not have done so badly if we were in charge of the realms of this world?

Addendum: Oh God, I must be mad. I have to be! That’s the only explanation for what I did today.

When it became clear that the death of the Sergeant at Arms was going to go unanswered because of the Privy Council’s blatant stupidity, I knew that only Henry could set things to right. Still, despite my constant attendance and gentle encouragement, he had shown no sign of emerging from his seclusion, seeing only me and Will Somers. I knew that things would only continue to deteriorate if Henry did not step in.

With that thought in mind, I went to visit him in his chambers. The guards were well used to seeing me come and go, and thus didn’t even blink at my arrival. Thankfully, Will Somers wasn’t present, leaving just Henry in his chambers. He was lying by the fire, much as usual, a tankard and bottle of wine sitting next to him. Before today, I would sit next to him. We would play cards, or just talk to one another. In some ways, we have talked more to each other in these past few weeks than we ever did during our marriage.

But I did not do any of that today. Instead, I stood above him, staring down. “Get up, Henry,” I ordered him, sounding as harsh and firm as I could.

He didn’t respond, just stared up at me, blinking in confusion. I didn’t give him time to respond, just repeated the command, telling him that he had lingered here in self-pity long enough and he must stop acting like a sniveling child.

My callous words caught his attention, though he didn’t get up. Instead, he merely said, “Excuse me, Madam?”

The warning in his tone would have made me stop under other circumstances but I forced myself to keep going. “Get up,” I said again. “You cannot afford such excessive grief, Henry. It is a sign of weakness to your enemies. Do you think the Emperor and the King of France will not take advantage of this kingdom’s chaos, to use it for their own ends?”

Henry sat up slowly, continuing to stare at me peculiarly. I felt almost like Eve, mesmerized by the snake. “Do you know who you are speaking to?” he hissed. “I am the King of England!”

Only rarely have I ever been afraid of Henry, and this was one of those times, but still I didn’t stop. “Then act like it!” I retorted. “Your kingdom is falling apart at the seams! Your nobles and their retinues fight and kill each other within the halls of your court, and even your Sergeant at Arms was murdered on your very doorstep. Get them under control before they destroy everything you’ve worked so hard for!”

The rage in his eyes was terrifying to behold as he levered himself off the floor. He thumped toward me, and for a moment, I thought he was going to strike or strangle me. Instead, he leaned into my face, his eyes glittering, and growled, “Get. Out. Of my sight.”

I could contain my fear no longer, and did so. Now I sit in my chambers, waiting to see if Henry will listen to me, or if he’ll simply have me thrown into the Tower.

* * *

THE DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _12 February 1538  
Whitehall_

My God, the nobles with whom I entrust my kingdom are fools. They have rendered much of my court inert due to their squabbling and infighting. It will take some time to get them under control again. I should just execute the lot of them.

It was Anne who brought their foolishness to me, while I was in seclusion, mourning my beloved Jane, and she was very forward about it as well. Inappropriately so, I would say under different circumstances. She berated me for selfishness, accused me of endangering my realm over my grief for my dearest Jane. She called me a sniveling child!

I had not felt so angry in years. I had not felt so much emotion in years. But then, Anne was always able to make me feel, no matter what emotion it might be. In this case, she enraged me to such a point that I might very well have wrung her neck! It was the supreme act of self-control that I didn’t do so, but instead banished her from my sight.

Still, her behavior was enough to lure me from my chambers, and thus I discovered the stupidity of the men outside my walls. And so I see why Anne behaved so, and with a cooler mind, I may forgive her cruel words.

Nonetheless, it still confounds me that she can illicit such a response…

* * *

LETTER TO LADY MARY STAFFORD FROM QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE  
 _22 February 1538_

Dearest Mary,

Well, Mary, I am not to be consigned to the Tower, it seems. Henry has seen the truth for himself, that most of the men in his court are lying wretches who look only to their own interests. Life is beginning to resume its normal course here at court.

I have heard that Cromwell has asked Henry to seek a new marriage. Apparently, while everyone is much heartened by the Prince of Wales’ continued good health, no one is comfortable resting all hopes for the future on the head of one boy not even a year old, and a girl not yet five. They want Henry to have more sons, to shore up the succession. Cromwell even seems to have a few suggestions lined up for Henry to consider – one of King Francis’ daughters, as well one of his many cousins, Mary of Guise. While I am not certain that Henry would consider one of the French King’s daughters, as they are quite young at the moment, Mary of Guise is a widow who has born children already. That might be something Henry would find more attractive, knowing that she has a proven herself as a breeder, and would outweigh his distaste for not being the one to break her in.

I will admit, if only to you, that this news isn’t exactly the most welcome to me, but I find it easier to bear than I did Henry’s marriage to Jane Seymour. This marriage, should it go through, is a matter of politics, not emotions. Perhaps knowing that makes the situation more palatable for me. No woman coming to Henry’s bed in such a manner could hope to hold his heart in the way that the women who he chose for himself did. Katherine, myself, even Jane Seymour, we were the women Henry loved and chose of his own volition.

As for myself, given that Henry is no longer ready to kill me with my bare hands, I am going to remain here at court for a while. The place has clearly suffered in my absence, something I lay at Jane Seymour’s feet. That woman couldn’t command a dog to behave. I think I shall remain here until Cromwell succeeds in convincing Henry to marry again. Perhaps I might even convince him to invite Elizabeth to court to visit us.

Pray, let me hear how you and yours do.

I remain,

Your Loving Sister,  
Anne, Duchess of Pembroke

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _25 February 1538  
Whitehall_

Henry has decided to exercise his power as Supreme Head of the Church of England once more – this time by regulating the worship of his people according to his own principles. These articles, though… they reek of Catholicism. Refusing to allow clergyman wives and families of their own, for instance. Poor Cranmer. He shall have to send his wife and little boy away, or face Henry’s draconian punishments. Cromwell too, will find this a blow, I imagine. He has poured so much of his energies into the Reformation these past years, going even further than most reformers would have him go. Being faced with Henry’s backtracking will be a hard thing for him to endure.

As for me, I find it horrible. I freely admit to being a reformer. The Catholic Church has fallen far from the precepts that were set down by Christ, and to have to pay obeisance to those corrupt traditions vexes me greatly. Some years ago, I would have run to Henry to argue with him over these articles of his. It is the Reformation that allowed him our marriage, did it not? If not for it, then we might never have had our Elizabeth. Now he has turned his back on the reformers, the ones who gave him his new life, away from the Bishop of Rome’s officious interference.

But now, however, I cannot. Everything I have, my titles, my estates, even my access to our daughter, all rely on Henry’s goodwill. What battles I will fight with him, I must choose carefully. I pushed him very hard to get him to leave off his haze of self-pity, using words that no doubt tried him severely. To do so again so soon would be too much, and I might very well find myself clapped in irons in the Tower.

The cause of the Reformation is dear to my heart, and I should hold myself a martyr to God’s cause, but I am but a single woman, whose chief cause in life is to further my daughter’s safety and interest. If that makes me a coward, then so be it. I will not enter the debate on these religious matters. To do so would cost me everything, most especially my Elizabeth.

I fear that I have lost the fires of my youth, and what determination I have goes toward my darling girl.

* * *

EXCERPT OF A LETTER TO SIR ANTHONY KNIVERT FROM CHARLES BRANDON, DUKE OF SUFFOLK  
 _2 March 1538_

Dear Anthony,

His Majesty has appointed me President of the Council and Grand High Master, both singularly high honors. He has declared that everyone shall be answerable to me in the event of his absence, and not Cromwell. As flattered as I am by his trust, however, I find that I little relish such a large and consuming task.

How strange it is, Anthony, to look at those words! Just a few years ago, I would have been thrilled over such positions, if only that they would have allowed me to strike at my enemies, most especially Anne Boleyn. Now, though, there is little reason to strike at her. She still resides here at court, but appears content to only divert and keep company with the king. She has not dabbled overtly in politics or joined the in-fighting that is so much a part of this world, and has even avoided the religious controversies. Strange as it may seem, in keeping Henry’s spirits, Anne is doing more good for England than she ever did as his wife and queen. Nor is it lost on me that by keeping such a position, Anne and I are essentially on the same side.

Of course, I daren’t say something like that to my wife. Catherine still to this day despises Anne, even though they have similar opinions on many current issues. Catherine just cannot let go of what happened to Queen Katherine, and makes little secret of her disapproval of Anne’s renewed presence at court to me. Fortunately, she is still discrete enough that her displeasure is not known to the king, who enjoys having Anne at his side again. I fear that, if he knew, he might not have been so quick to give me the honors he has bestowed.

[…]

* * *

THE DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _2 March 1538  
Greenwich_

Curse these damn French bastard ingrates! God was cruel when he allowed them to drive us and our rule from that country!

I ate supper with the French Ambassador this evening, so that I might inquire about taking a Frenchwoman for a new wife. I pointed out that a daughter of Francis’ would be too young, and I would have to wait until she was more fully grown before she would be capable of giving me additional sons. I then said that Mary of Guise was more to my liking, especially since she already has two boys to her credit, and has an excellent bosom.

The ambassador commended my taste, but informed me that the woman is already promised to my nephew, James V of Scotland. Hah, as if my elder sister’s son could give Francis anything of value! Scotland’s only real value is that it whoever controls it controls an entire third of the island, whereas I – and England – can be an ally for Francis in his conflict with the Emperor. James can give Francis nothing of the sort. Being so far north and hardly any navy to speak of, he is of no use in the greater politics of Europe.

I pointed this out to the ambassador, and all he could say was that I would, in effect, be marrying another man’s wife. He said this all very innocently, but I was certain I could hear a rebuke in his tone. He dared to allude to Katherine and how I had damned myself in marrying my brother’s widow! How I longed clout him about the head!

Instead, I mastered my rage and stated that I would marry whomever I pleased, and that I had received offers of marriage from every major court. If the French were not careful, I could very easily throw my support behind the Emperor, and the two of us together could crush France between us!

The ambassador, however, still had an offer from his master. Francis proposed that Mary marry his second son, Henri, the Duke of Orleans, and that I marry Mary of Guise’s sister, Louise. To be truthful, I found the offer a little insulting. I was to be fobbed off with the younger sister and an offer to marry my bastard daughter while ignoring my legitimate daughter altogether? I pointed this out to the ambassador, and to my pleasure, he was startled by my response. He sputtered a bit, and the only excuse he could offer for the slight to Elizabeth was that she was still quite young, much too young to be thinking of marriage. As if that meant anything. Arthur and Katherine were betrothed to one another while still in their cradles!

Idiot French. It is instances like this that make me recall the advantages of marrying among my subjects. I knew Anne and Jane both so very well before I married them, and their fathers certainly had no objections to air for my condescension. Still, I must remember to have Cromwell avail himself of the Spanish option. I hear that Christina of Milan, the Emperor’s cousin, likes nothing more than hunting and playing cards. That would certainly make for an entertaining wife…

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _14 April 1538  
Greenwich_

Christina of Milan’s response to Henry’s proposal is all over court! Apparently, when Sir John Wotton was extolling Henry’s virtues, she said that if she had two lives to spare, one would gladly be at Henry’s disposal. Alas, she had only the one, and far too many concerns about a country that saw her great-aunt poisoned, myself callously divorced and banished, and Jane lost due to lack of care in childbed. When George told me of it, I snorted. Henry’s reputation has preceded him in the courts of Europe, it seems. What woman does want a man who either tosses his wives aside, or lets them die?

For all that, though, I am glad that she isn’t coming. I have little use for the Emperor’s numerous relations. The last one sent here caused enough trouble as it is. If another came, I would have to worry about Elizabeth being poisoned or having an ‘accident’. The Spanish certainly have never been above murdering rivals, and even with the Prince of Wales, Elizabeth still remains Lady Mary’s chief rival, however much the two love each other.

Still, with all this talk of marriage, I think it is time I returned to Queen’s Hall. I meant only to stay until Henry was back on his feet, which he certainly is now. Besides, I haven’t seen Elizabeth in months, and I can easily go to Hatfield first and pass a week or two with her, and perhaps even invite her to come to Queen’s Hall with me. Perhaps I could even invite Lady Mary to visit as well, to let the girls spend time together. It does no harm to court Lady Mary’s goodwill.

Addendum: The nerve! Henry refuses to allow me leave to depart from court! He claims that he needs a hostess here when he is without a queen, and I know how to manage the court. I coolly informed him that I was not a housekeeper, and that I hadn’t seen our child in months. All he did was make some vague promise to invite Elizabeth to visit us here.

* * *

EXCERPT FROM HENRY VIII: A LIFE, BY DR. ERIC THOMPSON

“The illness that plagued the king in July 1538 provided a hearty fright to his councilors and his family. For nearly two weeks, people lived in a state of constant panic, fearing he would die and leave Prince Edward, still not yet a year old, to succeed him.

Queen Anne and the Duke of Suffolk remained by at his bedside, the former having been called for by the king. Despite her recorded longing to leave court, Anne didn’t take advantage of Henry’s illness to absent herself, but instead remained with him while the physicians dithered over the king’s infected leg. Brandon, on the other hand, while staying at Henry’s side, also made arrangement to secure the country in the event of the king’s death. He sent a detachment of guards to both Hampton Court, where the Prince was being kept, and to Hunsdon, where Lady Mary resided, his reasoning being that the court and people could very well split between the son and eldest daughter of the king.

Anne herself was recorded to have been rather insulted at the lack of care paid to Elizabeth’s fate, given that, by the law, she was second in line after Edward. Still, it has been argued by various scholars that Suffolk nonetheless acted appropriately. Wilma Johnson points out that, at the time, Elizabeth’s legitimacy was still in question by many English subjects, whereas Edward was the king’s legitimate son, but was still an infant. Lady Mary was still the daughter of the beloved Queen Katherine, and seen as next in line after her younger brother, and may well still have been the preferred candidate over him, given that she was an adult and thus had the immediate ability to take up the throne.

Still, there were still others who had more of a care for Elizabeth’s fate than Brandon seemed to, which likely soothed Anne’s pride. This time saw an unlikely alliance between Lords Rochford and Hertford, the two of them having to work together to keep the country together, and dispel rumors of Henry’s death. More importantly, they also together ordered their own set of guards to be placed around Edward, as well as having a detachment bring Elizabeth from Hatfield to join her half-brother at Hampton Court.”

* * *

THE DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _20 July 1538  
Hampton Court_

My visit to Hampton Court was worth every jarring pain to my leg, which aches constantly now no matter what concoction Linacre conjures for me. My son grows by leaps and bounds, and is the strongest, healthiest baby Lady Bryan has ever doted upon. Elizabeth too grows like a weed, and is enjoying her time at Hampton Court. She obviously likes being in a new place after spending so much time at Hatfield. Anne also is delighted to visit, though I think that mainly has to do with being able to visit our daughter, whom she hasn’t seen in some time.

A large crowd gathered just outside the palace, as word spread of my arrival. Knowing that the people needed to see that the royal family is still strong despite my recent illness, I gathered Edward up in one arm and took Elizabeth’s hand in the other. I had to step carefully out onto the balcony, so as not to put too much weight on my injured limb, and Elizabeth seemed to notice this, because she squeezed my hand and placed it on her shoulder, silently offering to be my support. My darling girl never ceases to amaze me. Not even five yet and she sees and understands more than most adults.

When I was preparing to return to London, Anne asked if she might remain for a time at Hampton Court, so that she might spend some time with Elizabeth. I was feeling generous in the wake of having such a positive reception from the people, so I agreed. She’ll probably not stay long before coming back to court.

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _20 July 1538  
Hampton Court_

It was a relief to get out of London. The past month has been a sore strain, watching Henry linger at death’s door and wondering what will happen if he should die. Being able to come to Hampton Court and see the children is a welcome respite.

Prince Edward is healthy, which Henry relishes. I look at the boy and while I still despise his mother, I cannot help but feel sad. He should be mine, and he should be older than what he is.

Elizabeth is here too, thanks to the thinking of George and Hertford, who brought her here to be more easily protected during Henry’s illness. Oh, how she grows! It has me in awe, to see my dear child grow so healthy and strong!

And I am missing it. The longer I am at court, the more time I will miss with my child. I have my own estates to manage, even if I have more than capable stewards to oversee them. Court is no longer my home, if it ever really was, and staying there is costing me more and more.

Addendum: That’s it. I can take no more of this. I am going home.

This afternoon I took Elizabeth into the gardens to play, just the two of us. We were not out long when Elizabeth suddenly spoke up, asking me why I don’t visit her at Hatfield anymore. She could not have aimed a crossbow more truly to strike my heart. I struggled with renewed guilt and told her that I had been staying at court these past months helping her father, because he was so very sad about Edward’s mother dying. Elizabeth didn’t appear very happy about the answer, but she said she understood. She said that she was at court when Queen Jane died. I gritted my teeth when she referred to that woman with the title of queen, but said nothing of it. I couldn’t take the chance of it getting back to Henry that I was encouraging Elizabeth to disrespect the memory of his precious Seymour.

Elizabeth wasn’t through asking questions, however. She then asked me if Henry and I were married again, because she missed the times when the three of us were a family together, and wishes we could all be together again. Those words struck even more terribly than her earlier ones. It seems I am not the only one who yearns for what is gone and can never come back.

I had no answer for my daughter, so instead, I did my best to distract her. Fortunately, as clever as she is, she is still a little girl, and thus it wasn’t difficult to direct her attention elsewhere.

I can’t do this anymore. I will not be a crutch for Henry. He cast me aside for another, destroyed what we worked so hard for. I won’t go slinking back to his side like a beaten dog hoping for scraps from its master. He doesn’t love me anymore, if he ever did, and wanted only what I could give him – be it a son or companionship.

I’ll not return to court. I’ll take Elizabeth home to Hatfield – the danger has passed and it’s safe to return to the country – before going on to Queen’s Hall. Henry has his own life now, and I’ll have my own.


	4. March 1539 -- January 1540

EXPRESS TO QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE, FROM GEORGE BOLEYN, EARL OF WILTSHIRE  
 _20 March 1539_

Anne,

Forgive the bluntness of this letter, but there is no gentle way of writing the news I must impart. Father is dead. His end was a peaceful one, here at Hever. He simply went to bed last night after dinner, complaining of a headache, and never woke up this morning. His valet tried to rouse him, found him unresponsive, and raised the alarm.

Could you send a letter to Mary? I’ve been busy sending word to court, our uncle, and getting Father’s affairs in order. Also, if you’d could also let her and Stafford know of the plans you and I discussed, I would be grateful.

He’ll be laid to rest next to Mother, just as she asked that he be.

George

* * *

LETTER TO LADY MARY STAFFORD FROM QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE  
 _21 March 1539_

My Dear Mary,

I write with unsettling news – Father passed away on the nineteenth of March. George sent me an express, which arrived last night. I know that you and Father were no longer close, but George asked that I inform you while he sees to it that the details are taken care of from Hever. Our George is now the Earl of Wiltshire and Ormonde. It may be un-filial, but I rather think that he will wear the mantle of it all far better than our father did.

Speaking of inheritances, George also asked me to discuss the subject with you. As you know, he and Jane have no children, and he’s told me more than once that there never will be. Even Father couldn’t bully him into sharing her bed and getting a child on her. He hasn’t touched her in years and isn’t about to start now, even to continue our branch of the Boleyn name. Still, it is his right to choose his heir, and he wants to keep the earldoms in our family. He’d like to, with your and Stafford’s consent, to make your young Edward his heir.

Please, think on it.

I remain,

Your Sister,

Anne, Duchess of Pembroke

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _29 March 1539  
Queen’s Hall_

Father’s affairs have been settled and his body laid to rest beside our mother’s in the family tomb. It is all done, according to George. My brother will be formally invested with the earldom within the next few weeks at court, and Jane will finally delight over being a countess.

I should be feeling sad, should be mourning the loss of the man who helped to bring me to where I am now. I do mourn him, but it is more accurate to say that I mourn the man he was once, long ago. I mourn the man who played in the gardens of Hever with me, chasing me and George about, jumping out from behind the brush and roaring like a great bear. I miss the man who picked me up and swung me about, letting me fly in those brief moments. I miss the man who held me close and murmured, “My Anne.”

I haven’t seen that man in so long, I fear that he may have truly died long ago, perhaps as far back as when Mother died. In the years that followed, ambition seemed to take higher precedence than playing children’s games with his youngest daughter. Then my own childhood abruptly ended when he sent me to the Netherlands, and then on to France.

I’ve been deluged with notes expressing sympathies from half the nobility in England, even if I know very well that my father was one of the most hated men in the country, probably just behind Cromwell in his unpopularity in many circles. Even Henry has written his condolences, for once leaving off his begging for me to return to court. I have to say, on that score, it is a welcome respite.

* * *

EXCERPT FROM ANNE BOLEYN, QUEEN OF HEARTS, BY DR. NATALIE OLSEN

“Much, though not all, of the correspondence sent to Anne from Henry during this time period was lost at some point in the nineteenth century, and are believed to be either destroyed or in private hands. Still, the correspondence was referenced in earlier works, though those references mainly say only that Henry spent the months after Anne returned to Queen’s Hall in July 1538 writing to her, asking that she return to court. His requests were always met with refusals, and there is no mention of her being present in the court records. If Henry had made a royal command for her to come to court, Anne would have been faced with the choice of either coming, or being thrown into the Tower for disobeying the king. Therefore, the lack of mention in the court records is probably accurate.

Still, while Anne remained ensconced in the country, there were still other things going on. Negotiations began with the duchy of Cleves for a possible marriage between one of the Duke’s sisters and Henry, though Henry himself was known to be visibly reluctant on the matter, preferring an Imperial or French match…”

* * *

LETTER TO QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE, FROM HENRY VIII  
 _19 October 1539_

My Dearest Lady,

You maintain that you are no longer needed here at court, that you came here only to see me healed and resume my duties as the sovereign of England. Your only wish now is to live quietly on your estates, administer them properly, and see to the education of our daughter. All are honorable goals, Anne, but you are sorely missed here. Your company is a balm, a joy in a time when there are precious few.

Please, come back.

H. Rex

* * *

THE DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _19 October 1539  
Whitehall_

I’ve sent Master Holbein to Cleves to paint the sisters of Duke William. Cromwell has continued to harp on the match like a man obsessed, and so was appeased when I sent the court painter to take the likenesses of the two ducal princesses. At the very least it gives me some peace on the subject, which is especially welcome when there is little peace to be found elsewhere.

There are whispers of the French and the Spanish signing a treaty with one another. If it’s true, then the need for an alliance with the Protestant League will be even more crucial. Only the League’s collective might at France’s back would make Francis pause about sending his forces against England when we are allied with them. Still, all the same, I hesitate. The German Protestants are far too heretical in their leanings for my liking. When I once told Chapuys that I’d agreed with Luther’s charges of corruption against the Church, I wasn’t lying, and I still mean it. Greed and vice still runs rampant through the Church of Rome, and nothing is done to check it. Still, the Germans have gone much further than that, which makes me nervous, a feeling I don’t care for at all. Nonetheless, I shall endeavor to keep an open mind.

Anne still won’t come to court. I have written her yet again, though I fear that it still won’t be enough. She is so stubborn! I still don’t understand why she ran from Hampton Court last year back to her estates, though she says that she prefers country life to court life now. Hah! As though anyone would believe such a thing. Anne Boleyn, a female country squire? Not in this life. She thrived on court intrigues.

Anne has asked why I want her to come to court, when I have so many of my friends to keep me company, such as Brandon and the Seymour brothers. What need do I have of her in the face of my companions? I tell her over and over that I miss her company, and that is the truth. I truly do miss her. Anne can light up a room like no one else, even by just stepping into it. Her wit and charm are as lovely as ever, and the court feels somehow less without them. But still she will not come…

* * *

LETTER TO HENRY VIII, KING OF ENGLAND, FROM QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE  
 _21 October 1539_

Your Majesty,

Fear not, this longing for my company shall pass. I hear you are to be married soon, to a worthy daughter of Cleves. My felicitations.

I shall make a bargain with you. When you have a queen to preside over your court again, I will come and visit her, and you.

Anne, Duchess of Pembroke

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _30 October 1539  
Forsythe Manor_

The news is spreading like spilled wine on a tablecloth across England. France and Spain have signed the Treaty of Toledo, both swearing to join forces to ‘bring England back to the faith’, or some such high-minded ideal. While part of me thinks that such a pact cannot last, for the Emperor and King Francis are notorious for their mutual enmity, I still cannot help but be nervous. If this treaty lasts long enough for them to invade England, and should they, God forbid, conquer it, then Elizabeth and I will be in grave danger. I sincerely doubt that the Emperor will have any mercy on the woman who replaced his aunt or on the little girl whose legitimacy came at the cost of his cousin’s, a fellow grandchild of Isabella and Ferdinand.

Our only hope, our only defense, lies in Henry’s forthcoming marriage to Anne of Cleves. Oh, how I laughed when I heard that he had chosen her over her younger sister, Amelia. Another Anne will be Queen of England! Such ironies God lays down on this earth! I’m not so conceited as to think that he chose her simply to spite me, of course. Still, it is rather amusing, even if my hysterical laughter gave Nan some cause for alarm. Fortunately, Elizabeth was at her lessons already and didn’t see my display.

Let this Anne of Cleves be Henry’s new queen. I’ll visit her, just as I promised Henry. What else can he possibly ask of me?

* * *

THE DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _2 November 1539  
Whitehall_

Welcome news arrived today – the Spanish fleet that was spotted but two days ago has been finally confirmed as a merchant fleet, not a military one, as everyone had feared. The alliance between Francis and the Emperor has already fallen apart – not that such news is a surprise to anyone, given the two men’s hatred of each other. Of course, with the crisis fading, some of my advisors have brought up the possibility of avoiding the marriage alliance with Cleves.

Cromwell, however, maintains that everything is too far gone to back out now. He says that if we turn our backs on Cleves, we risk alienating the entire Protestant League, which would be to England’s grave peril should France and Spain ever renew their alliance. We could never hope to call upon their influence again after so insulting one of their principle members.

To be honest, I am almost looking forward to the match, my religious concerns aside. It has been, as I told Charles, a very long time since I’ve bedded a woman. It is a fine thing to have a wife, after all, and not just in bed. I find myself longing for a companion, someone to share my troubles with. Anne refuses to return to court, to be that companion that I so long for, so perhaps this new Anne, this Anne of Cleves, will be what Anne Boleyn refuses to be.

* * *

LETTER TO CATHERINE BRANDON, DUCHESS OF SUFFOLK, FROM CHARLES BRANDON, DUKE OF SUFFOLK  
 _17 December 1539_

My Dearest Wife,

I have arrived in Calais, and have met she who is to be our new Queen. I admit, I was rather thrown by her very unfashionable clothing. The Germans force the woman to wear a veil, for God’s sake. Not even England at its most conservative has ever commanded such a thing of our ladies!

Nonetheless, I was permitted to spend some time with her, though her country’s ambassadors sat just outside the door, watching our every move. In sitting across from her, I was able to examine her more closely and see somewhat through the veil. She seems to have darkish hair, and while there is no great beauty about her that I could detect, there was a sweet prettiness about her, a kindness not often found in this world.

She has never learned to play cards, but proved a willing pupil when I offered to teach her piquet. The Lady Anne has a gentle sense of humor, and she was able to make me laugh more than once, something I had not expected after dealing with the dour German ambassadors. I could detect no malice or ambition about her, but I still cannot shake my reservations about this marriage. The king needs someone exotic and exciting to keep his attention. Queen Katherine’s Spanish looks kept him with her for over twenty years; the Duchess of Pembroke kept him fascinated and obsessed with her for over a decade, and still holds at least some of his attention now, long after their marriage has ended. Queen Jane may have been his beloved sweetheart, but still the king had no problem ignoring her in favor of other women, perhaps even more so than he did with his first two wives.

Lady Anne is kind, gentle woman, but she has none of the excitement and glamour of her predecessors, nor even Queen Jane’s ability to soothe in comparison to the Duchess of Pembroke’s high-strung qualities. I fear how Henry may react to her.

Please give my love to our son, but be certain to keep part of it for yourself, my darling wife.

Your Husband,  
Charles B.

* * *

THE DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _31 December 1539  
Whitehall_

I like her not! By God, I like her not!

I rode to meet her outside of London, much as my father once rode to meet Katherine when she came to marry my brother. When I entered the chambers where she was waiting, I saw her for the first time. She was dressed rather dowdily, in those rather infernal German fashions, but that did not bother me. Such things could be mended easily enough once we rid her of her German attendants and replaced them with fashionable, knowledgeable English maids and matrons. That aside, though, I could not find her at all attractive, nothing like the portrait Holbein made of her. I have been deceived!

Looking at her, I could logically see that she was pretty enough, though hardly a beauty of which legends are made. Still, I could feel absolutely nothing. There is nothing that draws her to me. If she were a lady at a masque at court, I wouldn’t look twice at her.

What has Cromwell gotten me into?! Where is my Anne? I need her here now!

I like her not!

* * *

ANNE BOLEYN’S DIARY  
 _31 December 1539  
Queen’s Hall_

It has been a quiet Christmastide, one I have spent only with those of my ladies who have remained with me and not gone home to visit their families. George is at Rochford Hall, in Essex, administering to his estates there and avoiding his wife, as always. Mary and Stafford have remained at Chebsey this year with their children, who are growing by leaps and bounds if Mary’s gushing letters are anything to go by. Elizabeth is at court with her father and the Lady Mary, so that she may meet her new stepmother upon her arrival at Whitehall.

I’ve resigned myself to the marriage, and have even ordered gifts for them – two little puppies. I hope the new queen likes dogs. Both have the blood of hunters in them, something Henry might like.

* * *

THE DIARY OF HENRY VIII  
 _1 January 1540  
Whitehall_

The Lady Anne arrived at Whitehall at the noon hour. I brought her before the court and allowed her to meet both Mary and Elizabeth, the latter of which had a small bouquet of flowers, no doubt obtained from the royal conservatory. The Lady Anne found them both enchanting and declared that she would love them both, and there was no lie in her eyes.

I could not help but soften a little toward her, despite my unhappiness. I cannot fault what I have seen of her character, and she seems like a pleasant woman. I just cannot find her physically attractive, not like my Anne. My Anne is still a handsome woman, even as she ages.

Perhaps… perhaps this is why she has stayed away from court since the plans for my remarriage began. The whole matter must be very hurtful for her, even now, which could be why she hasn’t returned here to visit.

* * *

EXCERPT FROM HENRY VIII: A LIFE, BY DR. ERIC THOMPSON

“The king’s diary is silent on the day of his marriage to Anna of Cleves, though there are plenty of other sources that record the event. All we have in Henry’s hand during this time was a single express sent to the Duchess of Pembroke, left among her papers. The brief words in the note more than adequately express Henry’s bitterness in those days.”

* * *

EXPRESS TO QUEEN ANNE, DUCHESS OF PEMBROKE, FROM HENRY VIII, KING OF ENGLAND  
 _7 January 1540_

You may come to court now. I am married. You need have no fear for your reputation.

H. Rex


	5. April 1540 -- December 1541

